tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52637477342568344072018-02-02T19:37:04.949-05:00Freshwater BayFRESHWATER BAY (Bonavista) - A very picturesque inlet on the west side of
Bonavista Bay. The great Northern mail road in process of construction
passes the head of the bay, but it is not sufficiently made for travelling. The
Gambo Ponds discharge their waters into this bay through the Gambo brook,
and the land is well wooded. Distance from Salvage by boat 23 miles.
Mail weekly. Population 55(Excerpt from Lowell's Newfoundland Directory 1898).Gambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.comBlogger109125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-8060925835053314122017-02-11T04:45:00.001-05:002017-02-11T04:45:22.356-05:00One Man Sally Ann<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowFullScreen='true' webkitallowfullscreen='true' mozallowfullscreen='true' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwhGMfwxPmTGXI6A-uoTs-ZblIm0fxeiOV8lfU8o4YaHXNDqmY5iup9o2k1uatArppK4-4g_j6pSv72Mpuq-w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' FRAMEBORDER='0' /></div><br />Gambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-85375794608563469592015-03-03T03:51:00.000-05:002016-09-22T22:58:00.254-04:00From Newfoundland to Freedom!<a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_RUEEFpaggLU/TGzzKEWObjI/AAAAAAAACn4/1mMuxz0-hVE/Jenny%20Lou.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://lh3.ggpht.com/_RUEEFpaggLU/TGzzKEWObjI/AAAAAAAACn4/1mMuxz0-hVE/Jenny%20Lou.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 240px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 180px;" /></a><br /><b>Cleaning up in 'The Business World'</b>- <span style="font-size: x-small;">from Fort McMurray Today by Avril Calloway</span><br /><br /><br />Ever since she was a little girl in Newfoundland selling lemon crystals for extra pocket change, Janette Brentnall Davis has embraced her entrepreneurial spirit as a natural part of her being. Her mother owned a general store and her father ran a saw mill, so it seems that it was destined from the beginning that Janette would live the life of an entrepreneur; it's in her blood. When I asked her why she would rather work for herself, she replied, "you see the way someone else does it and you don't like it, you don't like the rigidity of eight to five, so you try to change it for yourself." Janette Davis is the owner of Davis Enterprises, a janitorial company in Fort McMurray, Alberta, and thanks to Alberta's oil trade, it has grown very quickly from a small venture to a million dollar company. <br />Born and raised in Newfoundland, after finishing high school, Janette attended business school and attained a job at Canadian National as a long distance toll operator. She worked there for five years until she got married and decided to work with her husband for a small business owned by her father-in-law. She found that as a team, she and her husband worked well together and saw the business grow to be a multi million dollar company. By 1992, they owned both an IGA and Petro Canada franchise. However, when IGA decided to change from being franchise run to being run as a corporate store, this left them with only a Petro Canada franchise. By most people's standards this would be enough to keep busy, however finding it "slow" they finally said "to hell with it" and decided to move to Alberta in 1995 to discover new business opportunities. <br />With her children to keep her busy, Janette went from job to job waiting for the right opportunity to come along. She turned down a couple of offers, including an offer to open another IGA franchise (which she refused for fear that the same fate awaited the IGA franchisees in Alberta as it had for those in Newfoundland). Her patience paid off. The timing was right and Janet's opportunity arose three years ago when her daughter, now twenty three, started her own cleaning company. Although clearly endowed with the entrepreneurial spirit of her mother, Janette's daughter soon found this new business to be growing to be a little more than she could handle on her own and that's when mom stepped in. Although her daughter still works for the business doing administration, Janette's experience and hunger for a new challenge attracted an offer from a company in Long Lake requiring the services of an industrial cleaning company. <br />Davis Enterprises grew quickly from two to twenty employees. It also grew financially from a business that was previously operational on Janette's own money, to a million dollar company. Janette tells me that when she was younger, like many people, she had big dreams about gaining financial freedom by doing the thing she loved most. Now her biggest hurdle is figuring out how to handle this rapid financial growth in the best way possible. <br />Janette is now looking for someone who can help her to deal with the rapid growth (financial and other) of her business and make sure it is handled properly. Her professional goals are to maintain the two major contracts she currently holds and hold true to her ability to be a flexible, open minded person in the world of business.Gambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-89683863056816096542015-02-01T04:34:00.000-05:002015-02-10T13:42:33.114-05:00Lynching- The great American Cover up<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RUEEFpaggLU/Sa4WO4F7kDI/AAAAAAAAAi4/rd_FktcDAdQ/s1600-h/1900_lynching_before_back%5B1%5D.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RUEEFpaggLU/Sa4WO4F7kDI/AAAAAAAAAi4/rd_FktcDAdQ/s200/1900_lynching_before_back%5B1%5D.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309205455547633714" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 200px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 148px;" /></a><br /><br /><br />A crowd of nearly 2,000 people gathered in Georgia in 1899 to witness the lynching of Sam Holt, an African American farm laborer charged with killing his white employer. A newspaper described the scene:<br /><br />Sam Holt...was burned at the stake in a public road.... Before the torch was applied to the pyre, the Negro was deprived of his ears, fingers, and other portions of his body.... Before the body was cool, it was cut to pieces, the bones were crushed into small bits, and even the tree upon which the wretch met his fate were torn up and disposed of as souvenirs. The Negro's heart was cut in small pieces, as was also his liver. Those unable to obtain the ghastly relics directly paid more fortunate possessors extravagant sums for them. Small pieces of bone went for 25 cents and a bit of liver, crisply cooked, for 10 cents.<br /><br />From 1889 to 1918, more than 2,400 African Americans were hanged or burned at the stake. Many lynching victims were accused of little more than making "boastful remarks," "insulting a white man," or seeking employment "out of place."<br /><br />Before he was hanged in Fayette, Mo., in 1899, Frank Embree was severely whipped across his legs and back and chest. Lee Hall was shot, then hanged, and his ears were cut off. Bennie Simmon was hanged, then burned alive, and shot to pieces. Laura Nelson was raped, then hanged from a bridge.<br /><br />They were hanged from trees, bridges, and telephone poles. Victims were often tortured and mutilated before death: burned alive, castrated, and dismembered. Their teeth, fingers, ashes, clothes, and sexual organs were sold as keepsakes.<br /><br />Lynching continues to be used as a stinging metaphor for injustice. At his confirmation hearings for the U.S. Supreme Court, Clarence Thomas silenced Senate critics when he accused them of leading a "high-tech lynching."<br /><br />Lynching was community sanctioned. Lynchings were frequently publicized well in advance, and people dressed up and traveled long distances for the occasion. The January 26, 1921, issue of the Memphis Press contained the headline: "May Lynch 3 to 6 Negroes This Evening." Clergymen and business leaders often participated in lynchings. Few of the people who committed lynchings were ever punished. What makes the lynchings all the more chilling is the carnival atmosphere and aura of self-righteousness that surrounded the grizzly events.<br /><br />Railroads sometimes ran special excursion trains to allow spectators to watch lynchings. Lynch mobs could swell to 15,000 people. Tickets were sold to lynchings. The mood of the white mobs was exuberant--men cheering, women preening, and children frolicking around the corpse.<br /><br />Photographers recorded the scenes and sold photographic postcards of lynchings, until the Postmaster General prohibited such mail in 1908. People sent the cards with inscriptions like: "You missed a good time" or "This is the barbeque we had last night."<br /><br />Lynching received its name from Judge Charles Lynch, a Virginia farmer who punished outlaws and Tories with "rough" justice during the American Revolution. Before the 1880s, most lynchings took place in the West. But during that decade the South's share of lynchings rose from 20 percent to nearly 90 percent. A total of 744 blacks were lynched during the 1890s. The last officially recorded lynching in the United States occurred in 1968. However, many consider the 1998 death of James Byrd in Jasper, Texas, at the hands of three whites who hauled him behind their pick-up truck with a chain, a later instance.<br /><br />It seems likely that the soaring number of lynchings was related to the collapse of the South's cotton economy. Lynchings were most common in regions with highly transient populations, scattered farms, few towns, and weak law enforcement--settings that fueled insecurity and suspicion.<br /><br />The Census Bureau estimates that 4,742 lynchings took place between 1882 and 1968. Between 1882 and 1930, some 2,828 people were lynched in the South; 585 in the West; and 260 in the Midwest. That means that between 1880 and 1930, a black Southerner died at the hands of a white mob more than twice a week. Most of the victims of lynching were African American males. However, some were female, and a small number were Italian, Chinese, or Jewish. Mobs lynched 447 non-blacks in the West, 181 non-African Americas in the Midwest, and 291 in the South. The hangings of white victims rarely included mutilation.<br /><br />Apologists for lynching claimed that they were punishment for such crimes as murder and especially rape. But careful analysis has shown that a third of the victims were not even accused of rape or murder; in fact, many of the charges of rape were fabrications. Many victims had done nothing more than not step aside on a sidewalk or accidentally brush against a young girl. In many cases, a disagreement with a white storeowner or landowner triggered a lynching. In 1899, Sam Hose, a black farmer, killed a white man in an argument over a debt. He was summarily hanged and then burned. His charred knuckles were displayed in an Atlanta store window.<br /><br />The journalist G.L. Godkin wrote in 1893:<br /><br />Man is the one animal that is capable of getting enjoyment out of the torture and death of members of its own species. We venture to assert that seven-eighths of every lynching part is composed of pure, sporting mob, which goes...just as it goes to a cock-fight or prize-fight, for the gratification of the lowest and most degraded instincts of humanity.<br /><br />Opponents of lynching, like the African American journalist Ida B. Wells, sent detectives to investigate <a href="http://www.google.ca/search?hl=en&amp;q=American%2B+lynchings%2BNegro%2B1920%27s&amp;btnG=Search&amp;meta=">lynchings</a> and published their reports.Had Miss Wells been born in Newfoundland she would have exposed the hated Townie for what he really was<br />but I don't think The Newfoundlander could ever have done to his neighbour what the American Whites have done to The Black man.Gambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-74582865362939674572014-10-07T03:01:00.000-04:002014-10-07T03:01:49.957-04:00Firefox Profiles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.labnol.org/images/2008/02/firefox-wallpaper-thumb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://img.labnol.org/images/2008/02/firefox-wallpaper-thumb.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></div><br />I occasionally like to clean my Firefox profile. I test quite a few extensions, and play around a bit, so every once in a while, I just want to clean up. This method has worked rather well for me over the years. Essentially I imported my Netscape 4 profile into Netscape 7, then Mozilla App Suite, then split into Firefox and Thunderbird, so essentially I have data in there that’s several years old. I thought I’d share what I do, and why I do it, in hopes that perhaps someone else would benefit.These directions were drafted with Firefox 1.5 as a reference point, for older or newer releases the directions may not work (for example if you use a Firefox build with “Places”).<br /><br />A word of advice:<br />For the record, this is at your own risk, back up before you touch anything. Backup by copying The Firefox directory as mentioned in respective location below (a directory above Profiles). You’ve been warned.<br />Directions<br />You may want to start out by going to the Bookmarks menu and selecting “Manage Bookmarks”. Then cleaning out and organizing your bookmarks, if you want to keep them in your new profile. It’s a good habit to get into.<br />The first real step I do is visit my profiles directory:<br />C:\\Documents and Settings\\[Windows Username]\\Application Data\\Mozilla\\Firefox\\Profiles\\<br />Your profile will be a directory with a salted name. Something like xxxxxxxx.default. Those x’s are random characters. <br />Because I only have 1 real profile (and one for dev purposes of which I choose to preserve nothing), I like to rename mine to something else. As far as I’m concerned this one is dead to me. I’m going to also get rid of the profiles.cfg and pluginreg.dat files in the Firefox Folder (up above profiles), then run Firefox and create a new profile on prompt. If you have multiple profiles you wish to leave untouched you would be better off using firefox.exe -profilemanager in the command prompt and simply creating a new profile. <br />Ok, so now we have this really clean new profile, and that old crusty one with lots of junk. Well, I want some of my stuff in my new clean profile, but only certain things. So here’s a breakdown of what I do, pick and choose as you want. Obviously the less you bring over, the better.<br />Only perform the following when Firefox is not running.<br />Bookmarks<br />Simply copy the bookmarks.html file from the old profile into the new profile.<br />Cookies (stay logged in with all your sites)<br />I like to carry these over, since I like being logged into certain sites (forums and such). Just copy the cookies.txt file from the old profile into the new profile. If you open the file up in a text editor you can delete a line or two (get rid of those old cookies, or just to satisfy that tin-foil-hat feeling). Just be careful if you do.<br />Password<br />I also like to keep my stored passwords (nothing important, just those news sites, and other silliness that I don’t feel like entering each and every time). Password Manager is great for that. The files you want to copy over are: cert8.db, secmod.db, key3.db, signons.txt.<br />Extensions<br />My recommendation on Extensions is to visit addons.mozilla.org (Google for the ones you can’t find) and re-download. The reason I prefer to do that rather than move them over, is because some just seem to stubborn to use the update service, and that leaves me with some old extensions. Also, in this process I typically realize there are one or two that sounded like great ideas, but I just never really used them. Less extensions means less chances for a memory leak. That’s always a good thing.<br />Search<br />Just copy the search.rdf file and searchplugins directory over.<br />Final Notes<br />This process typically takes me about 5-10 minutes (mainly depending on if I cleanup my bookmarks and cookies). Overall not bad. Gets rid of the crud that tends to accumulate over time, and keeps things pretty lean. This is also pretty useful if you encounter some profile corruption or other ugliness, especially if your one of us trusting soles who occasionally run nightlies from the trunk.<br />If you do it all correctly, you get a nice clean profile, but still keep your important data. Cache and autocomplete list will rebuild pretty quickly as you use the profile. I’ve found this technique is great for reviving that profile that’s just littered with garbage from various things I’ve done, and extensions I’ve tried.<br />Hopefully this helps someone.<br /><br />Gambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-1613981788777782752013-03-03T01:08:00.002-05:002014-03-14T02:37:41.287-04:00A Collins Story<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9HkPw6cKLgw/UTLousrZkgI/AAAAAAAAFGk/Zu2P2yfuD4Y/s1600/Collins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9HkPw6cKLgw/UTLousrZkgI/AAAAAAAAFGk/Zu2P2yfuD4Y/s320/Collins.jpg" /></a>Part of the Collins saga of Nothern Bonavista Bay is that most of the families that started out in Newport/New Harbour can all trace their early beginnings to Samuel Collins. From this man came many of the Collins names that we know today. One such man was Enoch Collins who married Frances Lane of Gambo in 1872. From this family we see Mary Ann who married Philip Holloway who were the grandparents to Carrie (Caroline) Noseworthy of Newport/Gambo. Sarah Sims Collins who married Louis Keats of Dover back in 1899. Enoch the son who married a Sarah Pickett from Fair Island back in 1901. Andrew who married and moved to Botwood back @ 1915. Another daughter Susanna married another Holloway and stayed at New Harbour. The 6th child Keziah probably named after her Aunt Keziah and sister to her Mother married Thomas Lush and lived at Gambo for many years. The next child Eli Collins married a Henrietta Bragg of Shamblers Cove. The last child Elizabeth Ellen married Archelaus Collins of Newport. When Archelaus died in the winter of 1910 Elizabeth was widowed but soon married again. This time to Obediah Hunt of Silver Fox Island and that is the story of just one Collins family of Bonavista Bay North. One thing in this genealogy thread that has always intrigued me is the Sims names as in Sarah Sims Collins and sister to Keziah. Keziah's grand daughter Shirley Lane Simms married a David Simms from Badger Bay in Notre Dame Bay many years later. Another thing of note was the relation between Keziah Collins and Esau Lane. Keziah was a 1st cousin once removed to Esau Lane of Gambo as her mother Frances was Esau's 1st cousin. Alma Lush was Keziah and Thomas Lush's daughter. Alma's husband Frank Lane was son to Esau and Agnes Brown Lane which means all the children born to this couple are related on both sides of their parents more than once. Interesting! The picture above is &nbsp;Elizabeth with &nbsp;brother Enoch and possibly a friend or other relative around taken @ 1910.Gambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-7117063572542781912012-11-11T22:40:00.000-05:002013-12-12T01:47:32.756-05:00 Charlotte Wicks of Fair Island <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-acHGP1CsO7w/UKBs2g82y5I/AAAAAAAAFBA/upjKFdcgmq4/s1600/capture_11112012_222220.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="163" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-acHGP1CsO7w/UKBs2g82y5I/AAAAAAAAFBA/upjKFdcgmq4/s200/capture_11112012_222220.jpg" title="" width="200" /></a></div>I found this picture on the wall of a friend (Domino Howse) on Facebook&nbsp; which had more than 31 comments under it. History is quite alive for the people of Hare Bay to be sure. If anyone in the comments section needs any info on the residents of Hare Bay for the past 200 years I'm sure I can help you. And now for a short story. Charlotte Wicks (1878 - 1957) of Fair Isalnd was born to Samuel and Eliza Boland (not to be confused with Charlotte Collins of 1845). She married George Collins (1870 -1918) in Dec of 1893 at Fair Island. Together they bore 4 sons and 3 daughters. When George <a href="http://tinyurl.com/George-Collins">died</a> of inflamation in Jan of 1918 at Hare Bay, Bonavista Bay Charlotte married Tobias Goulding of Gambo at Grand Falls in June of 1920. <br /><br />Marriage Record<br /><a href="http://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.3.1/TH-1-10506-13954-33?cc=1790939&amp;wc=5496002">https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.3.1/TH-1-10506-13954-33?cc=1790939&amp;wc=5496002</a><br /><br />Like Charlotte, Tobias had also been widowed from Margaret Collins (a 4th generation Collins lady going all the way back to Samuel and Hannah Bundle Collins and 2 of the earliest residents of Newport) on May 6, 1919 at Gambo.<br /><br />Birth of Margaret Jane Collins<br /><a href="https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.3.1/TH-1-10505-46701-30?cc=1793777&amp;wc=5479048">https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.3.1/TH-1-10505-46701-30?cc=1793777&amp;wc=5479048</a><br /><br />Margarets Death <br />Goulding, Margaret Jane died May 6, 1919 aged 38 years (Wife of Tobias) <br /><a href="http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~cannf/bbnor_gambosacem.htm">http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~cannf/bbnor_gambosacem.htm</a><br /><br /><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9SLHPtcsAB8/UKFhVb2hqNI/AAAAAAAAFBM/uX_UlEFPT1w/s1600/Charlotte+Wicks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9SLHPtcsAB8/UKFhVb2hqNI/AAAAAAAAFBM/uX_UlEFPT1w/s320/Charlotte+Wicks.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charlotte Wicks&nbsp; </td></tr></tbody></table>As the story goes Tobias married Charlotte in 1920 at Grand Falls. Most of Charlotte's and George's children lived at the same residence as their Mom and stepdad in at least <a href="http://ngb.chebucto.org/C1921/21-g-falls-2-tw.shtml" target="_blank">1921</a> as did the only son of Tobias and Margaret lovingly called Domino Goulding. There may have been a daughter Susie Goulding but the name does not appear on this census.<br /><br />Tobias Goulding died in <a href="https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.3.1/TH-1-10506-8292-72?cc=1790939&amp;wc=5495919" target="_blank">Aug of 1923</a> of Tuberculosis only 3 years after his marriage to Charlotte. No info on the actual date that Charlotte married for the 3rd time to James Cooze is readily available at this time but it is known that the newlyweds did not have children. <br /><br />Angus 1920 and Dolly 1925 were the children of James and Alice Parsons Cooze. Alice died in 1930.<br /><br />To end the story of Charlotte and George and Charlotte and Tobias and Margaret and Charlotte and Alice and James Cooze I must say I found their story to be a wonderful and unique life of honour failure bad luck good luck hard times and a pinch of humanity in people and how survival can create a picture of people through words. Her strengh and tenacity is something we don't often see in the world of today. Charlotte and her marriages and families are something worthy of an O.B.E. Another piece of great Newfoundland history. Fascinating!<br /><br />John James Brentnall: A family in triumphant times:<br /><a href="http://freshwaterbay.blogspot.ca/2011/11/story-of-john-james-brentnall.html">http://freshwaterbay.blogspot.ca/2011/11/story-of-john-james-brentnall.html</a>Gambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-359316537224828562012-11-09T11:06:00.000-05:002013-12-11T23:43:36.036-05:00The history of Middle Brook, Gambo&nbsp;As a permanent settlement of peoples of European and Mi'kmaq descent begins on Doloman's Point. In late May or early June of 1834 James and Susanna (nee Honeyburn) Pritchett and their four children - Mary, Elizabeth, John, and James - landed at Doloman's Point, Freshwater Bay to set up permanent residence there. James was 33 years old and his wife was 34. Over the next seventeen years they would have another eight children - Anne Patience (1836), Job (1838), William Absolom (1839), Caroline(1841), Susanna (1845), George Barnet (1846), Abraham (1849) and Amy "Emma" (1851) - and lay down roots for a new settlement that would outgrow itself causing its residents to abandoning the site to move to nearby Middle Brook. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lIpzOxW0jio/UJ0p6-Y_kQI/AAAAAAAAFAw/KkIiwFwbA7o/s1600/554067184nf_christmas_eve.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="104" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lIpzOxW0jio/UJ0p6-Y_kQI/AAAAAAAAFAw/KkIiwFwbA7o/s200/554067184nf_christmas_eve.jpg" width="135" /></a></div>According to local lore, James' father, Job Pritchett, had left England sometime around 1812 to escape the press gangs of that era. He moved to Goose Bay, Bonavista South (in the Bloomfield area). Sometime after that Job secured exclusive salmon fishing rights (maybe from Benjamin Lester and Company of Trinity) to Middle Brook, the Gambo River, and Taverner's (Traverse) Brook. That meant that every spring Job, with his son, James, and other workers came into Freshwater Bay to prosecute that fishery. So James was very familiar with Freshwater Bay and Doloman's Point when he moved there in 1834. James's father, Job, had passed away the previous year (1780-1833) and now James was the holder of his father's exclusive rights to fish the three rivers. More than likely James and Susanna were accompanied in their move by the Barrow, Barry, Inder, and Feltham families who worked for James. Available to these settlers was not just the lucrative salmon fishery, but a potential logging and sawmilling industry. The abundance of wildlife in the Bay and up the three rivers - beaver, martin, lynx, fox (for fur), and bear and caribou and ducks and geese and hares for food -- also added to the attractiveness of the area. James believed that with God's help (he was a very religious man) and with hard work, they could build a new and prosperous settlement. With James and his father and their fellow workers having spent many summers (May to August) prior to 1834 in Freshwater Bay, it's likely that when they settled in in 1834 they had already built their houses and the requisite wharfs and slipways and storage sheds right on the nose of Doloman's Point. The land on which they built had already been cleared of trees and brush by Beothucks and Mi'kmaq who had preceded them into Freshwater Bay. The Beothuck were no more, the last of that unfortunate race, Shawnandithit, having passed away in St. John's in 1829. The Mi'kmaq, who had preceded them as permanent settlers in the Bay and had encamped on Doloman's Point, now numbered a dozen so settled unto on reserve a few miles away on the northern bank of the Middle Brook River. In 1857 there were six houses on Doloman's Point and in Clay Cove. These houses belonged to George and Jane Barrow, George and Diana Inder, Philip and Mary Feltham, John and Ruth Pritchett, and a James Feltham along with, of course, James and Susanna. Since James was primarily a fisher of salmon he had to build a cooperage to saw the staves needed to make tierces. Tierces were large barrels that could hold 136kg (300 pounds) of pickled salmon. The packed salmon he sold to merchants in St. John's who shipped them to Europe where it was a favourite food for the merchants and aristocrats. For instance, in 1872 James' sons - John, Abraham, William A., George B., and James - reported that they had netted 21 tierces of salmon on the Gambo River that summer and had shipped them in their own schooner to P. and L. Tessier of St. John's who paid them 4 pounds, and 10 shillings (around $120 in 2012 dollars). Meanwhile around this time the Pritchetts established at the mouth of Traverse Brook a salmon cannery. The cannery did not prosper for very long because by the late 1800s the number of salmon entering the rivers in Freshwater Bay was in steep decline. The decline, in hindsight, was inevitable. The Pritchetts, like all river lords in Newfoundland having exclusive access to rivers, would tail out their nets at the mouth of a river in the spring and hold them there until the annual run of salmon up the rivers was over in July or August. They lifted these nets for one day a week, Sunday, which meant that salmon could enter the river unimpeded only one day a week. That one day proved to be insufficient to allow enough salmon to enter the river to replace themselves in their annual spawning. The Pritchetts and other residents, as the salmon declined, turned to the forest industry to replace the salmon as a source of wealth. On the rivers in which they had set their salmon nets they now built sawmills and produced lumber for the insatiable lumber markets of St. John's and other large communities in Conception Bay. Census reports show that by 1884 there were 41 people in Doloman's Point/Clay Cove. But, already, the Point was being overcrowded. Along with the original families, James' sons were now grown and married and had to have houses of their own. His son, John, had married Ruth Barry in 1855 and they had built a house on Doloman's Point. His son, William A., had married Susannah Bourne in 1863 and they were also living on Doloman's Point. His son, Abraham, had married Rebecca Cross in 1866 and had built a house in Clay Cove. The crowding on the point probably led James' son, George B., who married Rachel White in 1872, to build their house in Middle Brook. Their action reflected the reality of the time. Most men were now taking a good part, if not most of their living from woods work and sawmill operations along the Middle and Traverse Brooks and in and around these rivers' watersheds. So people were no longer settling on the Point and other people already living there were starting to move away. The first to leave was James Feltham. Within a few years the Pritchetts had all moved to the south side of Middle Brook River while the Inders, Barrows, and Felthams took to the north side. By 1894 Doloman's had been totally resettled. Only the cemetery remained. Susanna died at the age of 91 and was buried in the cemetery at Doloman's Point beside her husband, James, who had passed away in 1858. Their son, James , passed away in the same year from the flu and was buried beside his mother and father, leaving to mourn his wife, Amelia Barry, with whom he had nine children. Also buried there were Arthur Lewis Pritchett, Sarah Barry, John Madgwick, infant James Pritchett,et al. Even before Doloman's Point had completely resettled George B. and his wife Rachel (1890) had built a water-powered sawmill at Water Point on the Middle Brook River. By 1892 George's brother, William A., with his wife, Susanna (neeBourne), had also moved to Middle Brook South and were the owners/operators of a water-powered saw mill on the Middle Brook River at the Over Falls. And their brother, Abraham, and his wife, Rebecca, owned and operated a sawmill on Traverse Brook as well as a general store in Middle Brook. These three, along with their brother John, also continued to hold the salmon rights which they had inherited from their father. By 1901 these four men were part of the fifty families living in Middle Brook South who now had their own church and school (Church of England). Meanwhile, across the River the Inders moved into the sawmill business and the Barrows and Felthams worked in the woods and in the mills. They became Salvationists and built their own church and school. In 1964the community of Middle Brook amalgamated with Dark Cove and the combined community incorporated itself under the name of "Riverwood". However, that name never took hold because nobody used it. But when "Riverwood" amalgamated with Gambo on October 3, 1980, the amalgamated communities took the name of Gambo. It stuck. Now, there is only Gambo . Church of England Cemetery This cemetery was declared a historic place by the Gambo Town Council in 2011. Although the aboriginal Beothucks and Mi'kmaq were frequent visitors who encamped on this point and may have buried here their deceased, the earliest known burial in this cemetery occurred, most likely, in April 1777. The burial plot used was marked by a headstone that identified the deceased as a nine year old boy named John Madgwick. Other than the information engraved on the headstone nothing further is known about the boy, his family, the circumstances of his death, and why he would have been buried here. What, though, is very interesting is that the headstone was still standing and decipherable in 1970(?) when a local Anglican clergyman, afraid it would collapse and be buried under moss and grass, removed it from this site. After being stored for a number of years in the Middle Brook Anglican Church it was retrieved, cleaned up, the lettering restored, and erected outside the entry to the church. It is still there today. It is fitting to note that the founder of the Doloman's Point settlement - James Pritchett is buried here. James, who settled permanently on Doloman's Point in 1834, died here on December 19, 1858. He was 57 years old. Otto Tucker who was a Salvation Army teacher and cadet in Middle Brook in the 1950 wrote down the inscription engraved on James Pritchett's headstone which has since crumbled and has been covered with grass and brush. Another person known to be buried in this cemetery is Sarah Barry. Sarah Barry was born in 1872 the daughter of George and Jane Barry who were at the time living in Clay Cove. Sarah probably died as an infant. Another headstone that had already shattered when this photo was taken in 2005 was that of Arthur Lewis Pritchett. The photo illustrates that Arthur Lewis was the son of Abraham and Rebecca Pritchett of Clay Cove. Arthur Lewis was born on October 1, 1882. He died in 1884. Although there is no headstone remaining in this cemetery to mark her spot, church burial records reveal that James's wife, Susanna Honeyburn, is also buried here. She died on May 16, 1891 at the age of 91. Nine days later her son James, age 57, died and was also buried in this cemetery. Who else might be buried in this cemetery is purely speculative. For example, the records show that James Pritchett's father died in 1833 in Freshwater Bay but there has been nothing found to indicate where he was buried. Is it possible he's also buried on Doloman's Point, or was he buried in Goose Bay, Bonavista Bay? As well, there is no burial record for Abraham Pritchett's first wife, Rebecca (nee Cross), for the Anglican Cemetery in Middle Brook. It therefore is likely that she would have been buried here in Doloman's Point. And since infant mortality was very high at this point in history it is more than plausible that other children were buried in this cemetery. Gambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-55241450002815167122012-03-09T19:24:00.003-05:002013-12-11T23:44:09.975-05:00Memories of Silver Fox Island<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jNooZzvNk44/T1qf6rNjEaI/AAAAAAAAE6c/vPn3-vOQyM0/s1600/Book.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jNooZzvNk44/T1qf6rNjEaI/AAAAAAAAE6c/vPn3-vOQyM0/s1600/Book.jpg" /></a> <i>by Rhoda May Collins</i><br />I was born and raised in a small place called Silver Fox Island, Bonavista Bay. My parents were Job and Maggie Rogers. I had three sisters–Eva, Statia, and Priscilla–and a brother, John. Childhood days were exciting days. I loved going to school and I liked helping my mom around the house. I was the oldest child and felt responsible to help. My sisters and brothers grew up the same way. My father spent a lot of his time away from home. He went down to Labrador in the summertime, or was away getting firewood, cutting logs and catching rabbits in the wintertime. Wintertime we would have a lot of snow. Sometimes it would be up over our heads. Mother would work so hard shovelling it. First she had to clear a very long path for us to go to school. Then she would have to clear a path to the woodshed, the drinking well, and the clothesline. Then she would take a break to prepare dinner for us children, who would come home hungry as bears. In the afternoon she would go right back shovelling again. She would make sure it was all cleared before another storm came. We would have fun sliding over the hills in the snow and making snowmen. Evening we all had our chores to do. I would get two one-gallon cans and fill the water barrel, which had to be filled every day. Then the woodbox had to be filled and kindling had to be prepared for lighting the fire in the morning. Mother would light the fire and warm up the place before calling us children up. Sometimes our bread would be frozen. We would put it in the oven until it got hot and then put butter on it. It would be delicious. I loved my father and hated to see him working so hard. He would have to bring firewood up over the hill on his back. I would help him saw the wood with the old crosscut saw. Later we got a bucksaw which was easier to use. There were no chainsaws in those days. My dad would cleave the wood and my brother and sisters would pack it in the woodshed. The shed would be filled, making sure there was enough for all winter. One day at school I took very sick. I tried to walk home but only made it halfway and couldn't walk another step. My sister stayed with me while my brother ran home and told my parents. Dad came and picked me up in his arms and carried me home. Each day I got worse. Dad went to Greenspond and brought the doctor. He said I had rheumatic fever and had to have total bed rest. Mother brought my bed down to the kitchen where she could be with me all the time. I grew worse and couldn't feed myself. After a month I could stand but my feet were still swollen. Our minister, Rev. Sheppard, came to visit me one day and encouraged me. I wanted to go to school so badly, even though I could hardly walk. I was determined to go, so mother would dress me warm and pack a lunch. I would go to my Aunt Lizzie Hunt's house, which was near the school. My brother and sister would pull me on a sleigh to and from school. How I loved to be back in school again. It wasn't long before I was back on my feet. Our first year of school was primer class, where we learned about animals and their names. Then we went into grades one and two. The only books we had then were the Royal Readers and an exercise book. We had a slate and learned to add, multiply and subtract. We had bookbags to carry our pencil box, slate pencils and water in a bottle, with a cloth to clean our slates. One morning I was so disappointed. My water was frozen and my pretty little bottle had broken. Sometimes we would carry a couple of pieces of wood to school for the woodstove, our source of heat. School days were exciting. Sometimes the harbour would freeze over and we would walk across the ice, which was a much shorter way. We dressed warm, with our knitted caps, mitts, and socks. There were no slacks for girls, but we had spats to pull over our boots and button up the sides. We also had fur muffs to put our hands into. We looked forward to Sunday. It was our feast day. Saturday was a day of preparation for Sunday's breakfast, dinner, and supper. Hard bread was put in soak, salt fish cut up and soaked, and salt pork cut up and fried. That would be for breakfast. Vegetables would be peeled and cleaned for dinner, with rabbit, bird, or fresh pork, and for supper tarts and cakes that were made on Saturday. This was a tradition all through the years on our island. I kept it up long after I got married, but gradually left the old tradition behind. We used kerosene lamps in those days, one in each room. They were filled and trimmed each day before darkness came. Sunday morning, the church bell would be ringing. After breakfast, dishes were done. We dressed in our Sunday best and off to church we would go, as happy as could be. We were taught the Ten Commandments and the Lord's Prayer. At the age of ten or eleven, we were ready to be confirmed by the laying on of hands by the Bishop. Then we would receive our first Holy Communion, the bread and wine as commanded by the Lord. I remember Mother making soap. She would save all the fat from the table until she got enough. Then she took ashes from the stove and poured boiling water on it to make lye. She added salt to it and put it outside to cool and harden. Next morning she would cut it into cakes and put it on boards to dry in the sun. It would be stored in the attic to be used for washing clothes and cleaning floors. My mother used a large wooden tub and a wooden washboard to wash clothes in. Sometimes in winter the water in the well would be low and she had to melt snow for water. We bought Sunlight soap to wash ourselves with, and to do the dishes. There was no liquid detergent in those days. Everyone did the best with what they had and no one complained. In later years there were large galvanized tubs and glass washboards. Small children could bathe in the large tubs. For adults, a large earthen basin and matching jug would be kept on a washstand in the bedroom, for sponge baths. My favourite pastime at night was to help my mother hook rugs. My father would make a rug hook from a fork or large needle. Then he made a large wooden frame. Hard bread and potatoes came in burlap sacks. These sacks would be ripped apart, hemmed, and laced onto the frame. Strands of burlap would be barked for colour and a pattern of choice would be marked out on the rug. Some patterns were done with pretty colours from white material we had dyed. When it was finished and taken off the frame it would be beautiful. There was no carpet in those days, but the bedrooms and hallways were covered with hooked rugs. Once every week, on a good day, the rugs would all be rolled up and taken outside to be dusted. I would do the rugs while Mother cleaned the floor before we put the rugs down again. We were always helpers. When we left home we were well trained and knew how to keep house. I thank God for my parents. They worked very hard to provide for us children. When I became a teenager I wished many times I could earn money to help them, but it was not possible. Some people were much worse off than us. Some children I know had to wear patched clothing, but we always had shoes and nice clothes. In late summer or fall my father would arrive home from Labrador. Sometimes they had a full load, but other times they had only half a load. It was very disappointing for them because they had worked so hard. The fish was taken to St. John's and shipped away. When they returned from St. John's they brought back our winter supplies. This always depended on how much fish they caught. We always looked forward to Dad coming back from St. John's. We were sure he would have something for us: a few oranges, apples, and candy as treats. Many precious souls never made it back from St. John's in the fall. There would be terrible storms at sea and many a schooner went down with all the crew lost. It would be heart-rending to all. When I was a little girl, my father's brother Uncle Chris got lost in a storm. He was married with a wife and two little children. They were living with us at the time, and he had promised to bring me a doll when he returned. Their schooner was lost with all on board. I remember the terrible time my father went through. He was broken-hearted and no one could comfort him. It seems he took it harder than anyone else. Another man from our island, Thomas Button, was lost on that boat. Their bodies were found and brought home to be buried.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aoQpQbsbMaM/T1qg7X9uG8I/AAAAAAAAE6s/9xEzbGueCO8/s1600/In+the+Cove.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="140" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aoQpQbsbMaM/T1qg7X9uG8I/AAAAAAAAE6s/9xEzbGueCO8/s200/In+the+Cove.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>&nbsp;Christmastime was a very exciting time for us. We looked forward to it with joy. All work ended on Christmas Eve. Our traditional supper that day would be watered salt cod and molasses raisin bread. Even today, I like the same on Christmas Eve. It brings back pleasant memories. After supper, our tree was hung and trimmed and stockings hung. Before nine o'clock, we would be in bed, anxiously awaiting next morning to see what we received in our stockings. Next morning we would run downstairs and bring our stockings up. We found candy, apples, sometimes grapes, and candy canes. Then we would look at our tree all trimmed with fruit. Figs and apples would be dangling down. Best of all were the beautiful, big heart-shaped candy. It was so tempting to us but we had to wait out the twelve days of Christmas when the tree came down before we could eat the fruit. We wouldn't dare disobey our parents. Finally the day would came and we enjoyed eating all except the big candy hearts. They had to be carefully put away for next Christmas. The last night of Christmas we would hang our stockings up again for another time of excitement. We were truly thankful for whatever we received. The children of today are bored and unhappy even though they have so much. Christmas was twelve days of fun for everyone. We all went from house to house to share in what we had. Sometimes we would dress up in old clothes, cover our faces and go mummering. We knocked on doors and asked, "Any mummers in tonight?" In some houses we would dance, anything to make fun. There would be a soup supper and concert at the school and we'd have homemade ice cream. There was no drinking and very little smoking in those days. I never saw a girl or woman smoke. That would have been a great disgrace. Once I saw a man get sick from drinking, after a soup supper. I became very frightened and fainted. My parents had to take me home. We had a nice dinner on Christmas Day, but never turkey or chicken. Maybe ducks or pork. We raised our own pigs. Mother made sure we had a new garment to wear on New Year's Day. That was a tradition as well. We always had special clothes to wear to church but were not allowed to wear it any other time.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M-X84V02S_8/T1qgV1h0m_I/AAAAAAAAE6k/tG-acwP4bD4/s1600/John+Collins+1869.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="134" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M-X84V02S_8/T1qgV1h0m_I/AAAAAAAAE6k/tG-acwP4bD4/s200/John+Collins+1869.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>As a child, I loved to visit my grandfather at Newport. My grandmother died before my mother married. Mother was their only daughter and they had a son, Uncle Elias Collins. Later my grandfather remarried. I knew and liked my step-grandmother. My father's parents died before I was born, so I didn't know them. Grandfather Collins would often come up to my parents' home to visit. He always brought me something, a doll, a cap, or candy. He gave me so many little things I appreciated very much. Of course I was his first grandchild, so I got all the attention. When I got older I used to go to Newport to visit Grandfather. I loved his house. There was something special about it that still brings back good memories that I shall never forget. Uncle Elias Collins married Aunt Jane. They had a family and all lived at Grandfather's house. I can still picture my grandmother putting her white flour-bag tablecloth on the table and her beautiful homemade bread. With roasted cod and homemade jam, it would sharpen the appetite of any child. Pancake Day, the beginning of Lent, was a day we looked forward to. We knew what we would have for dinner that day. When we got home from school there would be a large plate of pancakes on the table. Each one had something inside it, such as a ring, a button, or straw. Each was supposed to mean something. The child who got the ring was going to be married first, the button meant a seamstress, the straw a good housekeeper, the nail a good carpenter. I must have gotten the nail! The person who got the nickel was supposed to get rich. We all wanted that one. The next day, Ash Wednesday, we went to church, morning and evening. We also went every Friday all through Lent. It was a solemn time when everyone was supposed to fast from something. There was no activity during that time, not even a marriage.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iOUlty56DtQ/T1qhadCpt-I/AAAAAAAAE60/s4mMRt-d0DI/s1600/image003.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iOUlty56DtQ/T1qhadCpt-I/AAAAAAAAE60/s4mMRt-d0DI/s1600/image003.gif" /></a>On Good Friday nobody would work or cook a meal. We wouldn't even throw water outdoors until after sunset. Saturday was a solemn day as well, thinking of our Lord's death, but Sunday was a day of rejoicing, remembering the Lord's Resurrection. Eggs were a treat for us children. We had a couple of hens and sometimes we watched them to find out where they laid their eggs. We were sure to save up enough so that everyone had one on Easter Sunday morning. We boiled them and put them in egg cups. Of course, Easter Monday was a big day. There were soup suppers and teas, and dancing at the school house. Valentine's Day was another day we enjoyed. We didn't send cards like children of today. Our tradition was to make a request for something in the form of a rhyme. We didn't ask for anything big, just small things, as we knew we were more likely to get them. I used to watch my mother making bread and begged her to let me do it. She wouldn't, but one day I went to Newport to visit my Aunt Elsie. She was in her sick bed and needed bread made. Her children were all younger than me, so I offered to make it. I placed the pan on a little chair and made my first bread. I had a problem putting it in the pans and couldn't see how I could manage it. I did my best and the children enjoyed it anyway. Summertime we would play outside. We would cover the top of the woodhorse and make a tent. We would chew hard bread and make cakes from it, then enjoy eating them. Wintertime I would watch my father knit or mend nets. Sometimes he would make a casting net for casting caplin. We used caplin for fertilizer on our gardens in the summer. Dad and Uncle Bill would build boats together in the wintertime, either motorboats or rowboats. The rowboat had a sail, and depending on the size, paddles or an oar. When the wind was in the right direction you could sit in the boat and have a nice time along. Sometimes I would watch Dad and Uncle Bill saw plank with a crosscut saw. One man stood in the stage while the other stood up in the stage loft and they pulled the saw up and down until the planks were sawed. When the boat was built it was caulked and painted. It was fun watching the boats being launched and given names. The motorboat had an old-fashioned engine. Before I got out of bed in the morning, I would hear the boats all around the harbour, with the click click click of the engines. Everyone was on the move as soon as the ice moved out in the spring, getting their firewood home. It had been cut in the winter and hauled out by rope and hand slide to the shoreline, ready to be loaded aboard the boat in the spring. Sometimes they would tow a small, full boat behind. They had to have enough to last until fall. It was hard bringing it all uphill to the house and sawing it up and packing it away. The women would be busy in spring also. Most everyone owned sheep. They would shear the sheep, wash, card, and spin the wool. There were plenty of mitts and socks to be knit, making sure everyone had enough for the winter. Everyone had vegetable gardens. Before starting gardening, they had to take the sheep away, as no gardens were fenced. Names were put around the sheep's necks with leather name tags. Then they were loaded into boats and taken over to Indian Bay where they were free to feed all summer. In the fall, after the vegetables were up, we'd go back for the sheep. Sadly, many of them were never found. The last one I had after I married was never found and I never got another. We would cut grass in summer and make hay to feed the sheep all winter.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cIwSqMHlsqA/T1qhyqT3SDI/AAAAAAAAE68/iRpvJf-V--E/s1600/bleuets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cIwSqMHlsqA/T1qhyqT3SDI/AAAAAAAAE68/iRpvJf-V--E/s200/bleuets.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Summertime we went berry picking. We would walk in a little path to the upper end of the island. Blackberries would be the first to get ripe. We got lots of them to keep Mother going, making cakes and puddings. After that it would be raspberries, red currants, and blueberries, enough to keep us busy all summer. Mother would go to the marshes to pick bakeapples and bottle them. They were delicious for desserts, lasting all through the winter. When I got older, I joined up with a crowd and we would row over to the main shore to pick bakeapples. We would be gone all day, especially if they were plentiful. We would light a fire and boil the kettle on the beach and sit down for a big feed of smoked salmon and homemade bread. Some people on the island had smokehouses and smoked salmon all summer long. We enjoyed our trip and our feeds, making sure we got home before dark. I remember the first trip I had away from home. My mother took us up to Glovertown on the steamer. It was at night and as we were coming up the bay a little bird flew down in the cabin. That caused quite a bit of excitement. Mail was carried by the steamer, both in Newfoundland and Labrador. To send a letter to someone on the Labrador, it had to be addressed to the person, name the schooner, in care of Labrador Afloat. If they chanced to connect with the steamer, they got their mail, but if not, they would be gone all summer without a word from home. If there were a death at home the steamer would raise a black flag. If there were a telegram for anyone on our island, a flag would be raised on a pole at Fair Island. Someone would go up in boat to get the message. Often it wasn't for the person who went for the message, but there was much co-operation among the people. The mail boat brought our mail and we loved to see it coming in the harbour. To get the train we would go by passenger boat to Gambo to connect with it. My first trip on the train was when I was about twelve years old. My mother went to Fair Island with me where we met with Caleb Ackerman who was going through on the train. I was going to Glovertown, so she put me in his care. All my teenage years I spent away from home. The first summer I spent at Traytown with Uncle John and Aunt Florence Littlejohn. Aunt Florence's family were all grown so she wrote Mother and asked her to let me come and spend the summer with her. The following summer I came back to Traytown to work with the Kean family. When I was fifteen, I went to Glovertown to work with Aunt Jane Holloway. She had four sons at home, but was unable to work. She was a dear lady and each day would manage to get downstairs and sit in her chair. She showed me what to do. I would wash, cook, and clean for them. People were so limited in those days, with no jobs and very little money. I remember I got five dollars and bought myself a nice grey coat. I was so pleased with it, and later got enough to buy a pair of white sneakers. Aunt Jane taught me how to card and spin sheep's wool. I knitted socks for the boys. That benefited me much in years to come. The next time I left home it was with my parents. They moved up to Lockyer's Bay to cut logs. I spent one night with them. The next day I went to Hare Bay and got a job with Percy and Nellie Wells who owned a business and took boarders. I earned five dollars a month. I stayed for six months and went home in the spring. Transportation from Hare Bay wasn't easy. I knew the Matthews brothers were at Trinity building their schooner and would be going to the island on the weekend. I decided to go Trinity and go home with them. There I met Walter Matthews, who became my boyfriend and later my husband. Later that spring I made up my mind to do something I never thought I could do, because I didn't like being on the water. I was always seasick.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BAcBz4iac9I/T1qiXgoKjOI/AAAAAAAAE7E/9PeuRYl6KSY/s1600/codfish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="123" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BAcBz4iac9I/T1qiXgoKjOI/AAAAAAAAE7E/9PeuRYl6KSY/s200/codfish.jpg" width="200" /></a>Father was going to Labrador with Uncle Bill Wicks in the Polly Bee. They needed a cook and asked me to go, so I decided I would go. I thought that I might meet up with Walter sometime during the summer, but I was in for a big disappointment. His crowd was home a month before we got back. We left home the first of July and arrived home the sixth of October. It was a terrible long trip, and unusual to be that late getting home. We were over a month on the water. Everyone at home was worried and wondered if they'd ever see us again. It was not all hard times, though fish was scarce and we only got part of a load. We went down as far as Mount Pike. One day, it was a beautiful morning and all the men from our schooner and the schooner nearby had gone out to haul their traps. I didn't know anyone lived near where we were, but we saw a boat coming toward us, and heard men talking. The girl on the other schooner was just as scared as I was. Two dark men were coming right for our schooners. I didn't know what to do. First they went to the back of the schooner, I guess, to see her name. They were talking loudly in their own tongue. They could speak some English, and one man came over talking to me. He asked where I was from, and my age, and then asked me to marry him. I was scared stiff and didn't know what to do. I had bread baking in the oven, but I was afraid to go down to take it out. They had a loaf of dry bread and jug of water in their boat. They kept getting down in their boat to break off a piece of bread. I knew they were hungry and if I hadn't been so afraid I would have given them a meal, as I was taught to be kind to people. I had never seen a black man before, and I guess, the fear instilled as a child came forth. As children, we were told not to tell lies or the black man would have us. That meant the devil. We never questioned the old people, but I did fear the black man. I'm sure it was this fear that so terrified me. I didn't even know there were coloured people in the world, at that time. We came up to a place called Ford's Harbour and I came in contact with Eskimos again. I was on the schooner alone this time also. I heard them come and was still very much afraid. I had heard that Eskimos didn't like heat, so I went down in the forecastle and put lots of wood in the stove, hoping the heat would drive them away.&nbsp;<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l5Il43u_BCM/T1qjI7FYYOI/AAAAAAAAE7M/NKC4Dmpssjs/s1600/Jiggs+Dinner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l5Il43u_BCM/T1qjI7FYYOI/AAAAAAAAE7M/NKC4Dmpssjs/s200/Jiggs+Dinner.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Two women and two or three men came aboard. They went back and forth, looking at everything they could see. Then the old man came up to me and asked my name and age. I told him, even though I was almost too scared to speak. After that, a woman came over. They admired my hair. We all black hair, she said. I was wearing a red skirt. They admired red and wanted so much to have it. I knew they were hungry, so I invited them to have some pea soup I had cooked. They couldn't stay long because it was too hot for them. They brought a pair of beaded slippers and a little purse made of sealskin, which they wanted to exchange for some clothes. I looked among my clothes and gave them all I could spare. I really enjoyed my fur slippers and have never seen a pair like it since. The first of July when we left home it was a beautiful day. We planned to have fish and brewis for supper. When we were coming in to Seldom the wind changed and the schooner listed on her side. The pot with the fish and brewis came off the stove and over the floor. I didn't cook under sail anymore. I was too seasick for that. We got caught in a terrible storm that came on suddenly. I was down in the forecastle and couldn't get back to the cabin where I used to stay under sail. The storm didn't feel so bad back there. However, I climbed up in the top bunk and held on for dear life. Every time she took a nose-dive, water came into the forecastle. It took two men pumping constantly to keep the water out. Every man did his best to get back to land. Every now and then I heard someone shout to ask someone to check on me to see if I was still alive. We had been out in some high winds and heavy seas, but that storm was the worst. The Polly Bee was very old. She had no engine and they had to depend on the wind. When it came the wrong way it would be tough going, and when it was calm, sails were no good.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2c5UPJAq9ds/T1qjpuSHSKI/AAAAAAAAE7U/gWYp1pTxxGk/s1600/Icon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2c5UPJAq9ds/T1qjpuSHSKI/AAAAAAAAE7U/gWYp1pTxxGk/s200/Icon.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>They would put out the motorboat to tow the schooner. You can imagine how far we would get in a day with a small boat towing a big schooner. When we crossed the Strait of Belle Isle, it was so calm the men put the oars out and started rowing. We all looked forward to that wonderful day when we would reach home. Each day brought us a little closer. We never despaired, thinking of the joyful reunion we would have with our families who were anxiously awaiting our return. My boyfriend was also anxiously awaiting. Tears of joy were shed that sixth day of October when we sailed in the harbour. Mom had a beautiful supper prepared for us, with bakeapples for dessert. To meet up with my boyfriend that night was an experience of homecoming one could not forget. Uncle Sam Wicks's wife had a new baby the day we came home. So after spending one day at home, I went over to help my aunt take care of her family for a few days. I was hoping to go to St. John's in the fall, but it looked hopeless for me. Our schooner had been so late getting home, and it would be very late before they had their fish ready to take to St. John's. However, the Silver Jubilee had been home early, and ready to take their fish in. It would be the first trip to St. John's for the Silver Jubilee and a couple of the Matthews women were going and asked me to come along. I gladly accepted and we had a very enjoyable trip. I worried about Dad and the crew of the Polly Bee having to travel so late in the fall. However, God took care of them and they made it back safely. I was married to Walter Matthews at the age of eighteen, in St. Andrew's Church on Silver Fox Island, on June 5, 1936. We didn't have much of this world's goods or a big wedding, or large gifts as people get today. But we loved each other and love covers it all. I remember the day I walked down the church aisle with the man I loved. I felt like the happiest person in the whole world.<br /><br />Submitted and reformatted for www.Freshwaterbay.blogspot.com <br /><br />Gambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-78502908108907576752012-02-24T04:38:00.001-05:002013-12-11T23:44:35.184-05:00"SCHOONERS LOST ON SILVER FOX ISLAND"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "SCHOONERS LOST ON SILVER FOX ISLAND"<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; By Samuel Button<br />________________________________________<br /><br />This story was related to me by Mr. Elias Collins, formerly of New Harbour, now residing at Hare Bay who witnessed the loss of the schooner, “Grace” at the southeast corner of Silver Fox Island. It happened on November 10, 1929. The schooner, about 80 tons (more or less), was en route to St. John’s to ports in the Green Bay and maybe further north. She had a load of general cargo. Elias Collins saw a schooner about one mile south of Newport (New Harbour) with just one sail on it (foresail). About 12 o’clock in the day, Robert Keats, a relative of his, was with a skipper named Robert Best of Wesleyville. He had a feeling that this maybe the schooner with Mrs. Keats onboard. He mentioned to his father, John Collins about the schooner he saw, so his father decided that they would go and investigate. Don Collins went along with them. <br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lNtmkxsbhiA/T0daGOSXWdI/AAAAAAAAE6E/kg3lqa18ilk/s1600/Dan+and+Robert.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lNtmkxsbhiA/T0daGOSXWdI/AAAAAAAAE6E/kg3lqa18ilk/s200/Dan+and+Robert.jpg" width="175" /></a>On the way to the schooner they saw a small motorboat leave and went in the direction of Greenspond. There was a big sea running at the time. The schooner had a double reef foresail left up, and she was heading in the direction of Shag Rock Tickle. The schooner was too near the dangerous shoals to board her at the time, but after she passed through Shag Rock Tickle, they managed to board her. Her wheel was lashed at the time. The schooner was heading for land near the Pigeon Cluff about 1500 feet more or less west of the south east corner of Silver Fox Island. Elias dropped one of her anchors just before she struck the land, but the schooner finally went ashore. On investigation he noticed that the front part of the ship, “the forecastle” was filled with water, but the main hold was free of water at the time. He went down the cabin and noticed that water poured in the stern and it looked like that the rudder case was broken. He smelled rum in the cabin but he didn’t find any. They finally took off the hatches and noticed that there was a lot of hay onboard, as well as, general cargo. Collins was interested in the hay, as he had a horse and he had no food to feed it at the time. They tried to get some bundles of hay, but when they got it near the top of the hatch way the bundles would fall apart. They finally directed their attention to food items such as cheese, butter, biscuits, raisins, dried apple and apricots. <br />His father, John Collins was onboard their motorboat and keeping the boat from breaking up by the side of the wreck. He urged his son, Elias and Daniel Collins to hurry up and get clear of the schooner, because he feared that the schooner was going to crash on its side. <br />They obtained nearly a load of general cargo and were just leaving the wreck when she finally fell over on her side. At the same time the foremast came out of her. By this time, some people from Silver Fox Island and Fair Island were there, but they only obtained a few items that floated on the water, like salt pork and butter. Other boats came from Greenspond which include the crew of the schooner. Collins was talking to the skipper and crew. The skipper said that they had a stormy night with a NE wind and snow and they were hoved to many hours during the night in Bonavista Bay and finally left the schoner for no apparent reason. He said, he didn’t know too much about the land in the area. Collins says that there was no water in the schooner before she drifted through Shag Rock Tickle, but she struck bottom on the way through the tickle which damaged the front of the ship and beat the rudder case out of it. The anchor belonging to the “Grace” was obtained by my father (Joseph Button), Thomas Button, Edwin Feltham and one or two others and was later sold by Edgar John Brown of Fair Island, who used it as a main anchor for the E. L. Nadiney. Edgar Collins of Newport secured the foremast. The Garfield Rogers of Paul's Island stopped the mainmast down. Later he sawed it into lumber and used it for steps in his house. (Mr. Rogers died November 30, 1982 just 10 days after I interviewed him). (Sam Button)<br />Mr. Collins said, that, if they were able to board the schooner before she drifted through Shag Rock Tickle, it was possible that they could have salvaged the schooner, as it was abandoned at the time. There was no evidence of any damage to the ship before she drifted through Shag Rock Tickle. She struck bottom as there are three underwater shoals there, which are dangerous in a heavy sea. Another schooner about 35 tons, named “Nellie M.” by Mr. Ned Green of Newtown, was lost near the same place where the schooner “Grace” went ashore. This schooner was coming down from the western part of Bonavista Bay with a load of firewood onboard when it drifted ashore. The crew got out in a small boat and arrived safely at Silver Fox Island. This happened before the year 1929. There was a big sea running at the time and it became calm. The crew left the schooner near New Harbour, but somehow she drifted on Silver Fox Island near the same place the “Grace” was lost. She was a total loss.<br /><br />Submitted by<br />Roderick BrentnallGambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com2Hare Bay, NL, Canada48.8541751 -54.0119148.8187861 -54.063157 48.8895641 -53.960663000000004tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-73057354790099701932011-12-18T23:48:00.003-05:002016-09-03T03:42:54.659-04:00Meryl Streep in "Mrs. Thatcher"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/hZrAKdlX0SA/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/hZrAKdlX0SA?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div><br />Gambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-10979779199080696482011-10-01T18:02:00.016-04:002017-11-06T20:30:21.691-05:00The Story of John James Brentnall<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xzDe89ueUEA/TrmzD_SQiiI/AAAAAAAAE2M/0ytfy8R6X6k/s1600/John+J+Brentnall+marriage2A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xzDe89ueUEA/TrmzD_SQiiI/AAAAAAAAE2M/0ytfy8R6X6k/s320/John+J+Brentnall+marriage2A.jpg" width="194" /></a><br /><br />John James Brentnall was born in<br />Springfield New Brunswick in the<br />county of Kings in possibly 1845<br />to John M.L. and Sarah Wilson Brentnall.<br />In the census of 1871 he is listed<br />as a farmer/ shoemaker in the same town as his parents.<br />His wife is listed as Elizabeth even though<br />she is Almira Elizabeth Hamm.<br />This is the life of John James Brentnall,<br />,my great grandfather's brother,<br />and told through pedigree diagram<br />and story.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="color: #9fc5e8;"><span style="font-size: large;">"The Brentnall Family listed in New Brunswick Census of 1900"</span></div><br />Brentnall John J. Head M May 1861 50 <br />Brentnall Gertrude Wife M Jul 1880 30 <br />Brentnall Annie Dau S Apr 1902 8 <br />Brentnall Gladis Dau S Jul 1904 6 <br />Brentnall William Son S Nov 1905 5 <br />Brentnall Robert Son S Nov 1908 2 <br /><br /><div style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-size: medium;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"> <b>"John James Brentnall and Almira Elizabeth Hamm" </b></span></span></div><br />John James Brentnall and Alvira Elizabeth Hamm were married in Springfield New Brunswick in the Year of our Lord Eighteen hundred and seventy one. Listed in the same town is John's father John M.L. Brentnall who emmigrated here in 1841 from Nottinghamshire with his brother Samuel E Brentnall. Living in the same abode with John M.L. is a daughter Sarah now 15 and a step daughter Maria Jane Wilson. Maria Jane is the daughter of John's wife Sarah who was a widow in 1841 before their marriage. To date it is not known if Wilson is Sarah's maiden name widowed name or other. Was Maria Jane born out of Wedlock? <br /><br />…and now back to John James Brentnall<br />Their first child of John James Brentnall and Alvira is Ruth born in 1871 in New Brunswick and possibly Springfield. In 1881 they are listed on US census in the town of Chelsea Suffolk County in the state of Massachusetts. They live in Chelsea til at least 1890 when Lester, the fourth child, dies..maybe even later.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-shIQXph4V8k/Toas7q7j_fI/AAAAAAAAEwk/thTgFQhhei4/s1600/Clipboard-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-shIQXph4V8k/Toas7q7j_fI/AAAAAAAAEwk/thTgFQhhei4/s1600/Clipboard-1.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br />In 1900 John James marries Helena Gertrude Perry in Saint John New Brunswick so we know now that Alvira has died and he is a widower and she a spinster. He is listed as 49 years of age and she 19. Shame on you Great Uncle John!<br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Bn7n2Ec5-3Y/ToatNvFSlOI/AAAAAAAAEwo/Tax283kc4PU/s1600/Clipboard-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Bn7n2Ec5-3Y/ToatNvFSlOI/AAAAAAAAEwo/Tax283kc4PU/s400/Clipboard-2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br />John James died sometime between 1911-1918 because he is listed on the 1911 Census report as a resident of Saint John County N.B. and Helena marries Warren Herbert Sears in 1918.<br /><br />And now for the clicker………………………!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br /><br />Warren Herbert Sears was married to Helena's younger sister Alva Agatha Perry born 1885. By the time Alva died of consumption in 1915 she had bore 3 children with Herbert Warren Sears: <br />Robert 1907, Maude 1908, and Arthur 1909.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3Co5CP80taM/ToatvTrPM5I/AAAAAAAAEws/PvyHTd4VbAg/s1600/Clipboard-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3Co5CP80taM/ToatvTrPM5I/AAAAAAAAEws/PvyHTd4VbAg/s400/Clipboard-3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br /><br />…and then!<br /><br /><br />Helena G. Perry Brentnall marries Warren Herbert Sears in Saint John New Brunswick on March 18 1918 in Saint John. I had an email many moons ago from another genealogist about the strange circumstances surrounding Helena and Herbert Sears. Wonder now if this is what they meant! Tis a mystery. You have to realize this is 1918 New Brunswick where people did not tolerate these kinds of actions. Silly really when you think of it but these were god-fearing people who put God above all else. Man and beasts!<br /><br />Helena Gertrude Perry died in Calais Maine in 1946 but for some strange reason is buried in New Brunswick not terribly far from Warren Herbert Sears who died at and is buried in Milltown New Brunswick.<br /><br /><br />The best thing a man may leave is his word"<br /><br />- Roderick Brentnall <br />TorontoGambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-55041214588826883342011-09-11T16:20:00.004-04:002014-02-23T01:36:05.613-05:00Ronald Kelly was the log driver<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VxZ4AXKfjFE/Tp2tlqmlINI/AAAAAAAAEzA/vrJC6pEABX4/s1600/Ronald+Kelly+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VxZ4AXKfjFE/Tp2tlqmlINI/AAAAAAAAEzA/vrJC6pEABX4/s1600/Ronald+Kelly+.jpg" /></a>This lighthearted, animated short is based on the song "The Log Driver's Waltz" by Wade Hemsworth. Easily one of the most often-requested films in the NFB collection, Kate and Anna McGarrigle sing along to the tale of a young girl who loves to dance and chooses to<br />marry a log driver over his more well-to-do competitor. Driving logs down the river has made the young man the best dancing partner to be found. Although the video says the young man it is actually an older man and thanks to friends and people who remembered him it is actually Ronald Kelly my paternal grandfather of Burnt Island Gambo and Grand Falls/Winsor. You'll see Pop Kelly at <span style="color: #0b5394;">00:32</span> minutes.Dad was so much like Pop ......even had the same jumpy moves. <br /><br /><a href="http://freshwaterbay.blogspot.com/2007/05/heres-picture-of-my-grandfather-ronald.html"><br /></a><br /><br />And now for the video<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QEEwldr3w2Q/TaTZuZ2bl3I/AAAAAAAAEEE/4I3u-zme5ug/Look%252520down.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QEEwldr3w2Q/TaTZuZ2bl3I/AAAAAAAAEEE/4I3u-zme5ug/Look%252520down.gif" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowFullScreen='true' webkitallowfullscreen='true' mozallowfullscreen='true' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/upsZZ2s3xv8?feature=player_embedded' FRAMEBORDER='0' /></div><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">About the author/maker of "The log drivers waltz"</span><br /><br />&nbsp;Wade Hemsworth grew up in Brantford, Ontario, and learned to play guitar and banjo as a youth. He graduated in 1939 from the Ontario College of Art, and then spent the Second World War in the Royal Canadian Air Force. He was briefly stationed in Newfoundland, where he discovered traditional music. After the war, he worked as a surveyor in wilderness areas of Northern Ontario, Quebec and Labrador, a job which provided him with subject matter for many of his 20 original songs. He moved to Montreal in 1952, where he worked as a draftsman for the Canadian National Railway and performed in the city's folk music clubs at night.<br /><br />More on this story <br /><a href="http://freshwaterbay.blogspot.com/2007/05/heres-picture-of-my-grandfather-ronald.html">http://freshwaterbay.blogspot.com/2007/05/heres-picture-of-my-grandfather-ronald.html</a> <br /><br />R Brentnall<br />Toronto Ont.Gambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-32945436394267116032011-08-31T10:47:00.000-04:002012-11-12T17:33:04.140-05:00Facebook Annoyances<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQ-dLjN3qrZcp6EIfZ45Y4vV9HTZfmGnhOY9cjQNR4RQSg2_1MyYA" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQ-dLjN3qrZcp6EIfZ45Y4vV9HTZfmGnhOY9cjQNR4RQSg2_1MyYA" width="200" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small;">Do you constantly have 99 new notifications, marked with the little red button at the bottom right in your Facebook account? Would you like to only receive important notifications, such as comments from friends, and skip the stuff various applications send you? Read on. </span><br /><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small;">This isn’t a new feature, but I’m always amazed at how many people simply endure thousands of notifications and updates from applications and pages, without ever bothering to simply turn them off. Here are a couple of ways to do it.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small;">Click on the “Notifications” button at the bottom right corner in Facebook. Click on “See All.” On the right, you’ll see a long list of every application that sends you notifications, and you can turn them off by unchecking them. Be careful, Facebook’s own applications which are probably useful to you, such as feed comments, are also on the list, so you’ll probably want to leave them checked.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-n-vR-ggOLUA/Tl5IAMpNxzI/AAAAAAAAEpc/GY5Kws4TqXw/s1600/facebook_notifications.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="158" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-n-vR-ggOLUA/Tl5IAMpNxzI/AAAAAAAAEpc/GY5Kws4TqXw/s320/facebook_notifications.jpg" width="320" /></a></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small;">Alternatively, in the small notifications roll-up window on the bottom right, an “x” will appear as you hover the mouse pointer over individual notifications. Clicking on it will remove any further notifications from that application. </span><br /><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small;">Finally, for additional fine tuning, you can click on Settings in the main menu, then on “Application Settings”. Choose “Authorized” from the drop down menu. Many applications actually have quite a lot of privileges. For example, some are able to “Access my data even when I’m not using the application,” “Send me emails” and “Publish recent activity to my wall.” From here, you can turn all of those off without actually removing the application. If you want to really make sure the application will never bother you again, you can completely remove it by clicking the “x” next to its name.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IR-OSN6uUTg/Tl5IKoA72MI/AAAAAAAAEpg/XrrRCpQcX6Y/s1600/facebook_apps2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="110" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IR-OSN6uUTg/Tl5IKoA72MI/AAAAAAAAEpg/XrrRCpQcX6Y/s320/facebook_apps2.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small;">Now, you can do the same for Updates. Click on “Updates” in the menu on the same page (you can reach the page by clicking on “Inbox” from the main menu), and then click on “Updates Settings” on the right. From there, you can control which updates you receive. Save changes, and you’re done. That’s all! Enjoy your new, nag-free Facebook.Don't thank me "Tell ya Mudder"............................................</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>Gambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-12693951542976635952011-08-29T04:32:00.000-04:002013-12-11T23:45:17.735-05:00Celine Dion on Larry King 1998This is such a great video and interview. Someone was graciasly nice enough to post this.<br />Celine at her best.<br /><br /><br /><br /><object height="345" width="420"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/CKLO2Mt8SvM?version=3&amp;hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/CKLO2Mt8SvM?version=3&amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="420" height="345" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object>Gambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-21975287400988958712011-07-29T00:28:00.001-04:002011-07-29T00:41:23.974-04:00The Carpenters Nightmare<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bc-DAWpwKCs/TjIuOhTauXI/AAAAAAAAEnw/aSxVhZg7xTE/s1600/220px-Melamine_formaldehyde_polymer.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bc-DAWpwKCs/TjIuOhTauXI/AAAAAAAAEnw/aSxVhZg7xTE/s1600/220px-Melamine_formaldehyde_polymer.png" /></a></div>Particle board, or particleboard (or chipboard in the UK, Australia, New Zealand and some other countries), is an engineered wood product manufactured from wood particles, such as wood chips, sawmill shavings, or even saw dust, and a synthetic resin or other suitable binder, which is pressed and extruded. Particleboard is a composite material.<br /><br /><br />Particleboard is cheaper, denser and more uniform than conventional wood and plywood and is substituted for them when appearance and strength are less important than cost. However, particleboard can be made more attractive by painting or the use of wood veneers that are glued onto surfaces that will be visible. Though it is denser than conventional wood, it is the lightest and weakest type of fiberboard, except for insulation board. Medium-density fibreboard and hardboard, also called high-density fiberboard, are stronger and denser than particleboard. Different grades of particleboard have different densities, with higher density connoting greater strength and greater resistance to failure of screw fasteners.<br /><br />A major disadvantage of particleboard is that it is very prone to expansion and discoloration due to moisture, particularly when it is not covered with paint or another sealer. Therefore, it is rarely used outdoors or places that have high levels of moisture, with the exception of some bathrooms, kitchens and laundries, where it is commonly used as an underlayment beneath a continuous sheet of vinyl floor coverings.<br /><br />Modern plywood, as an alternative to natural wood, was invented in the 19th century, but by the end of the 1940s there was not enough lumber around to manufacture plywood affordably. Particleboard was intended to be a replacement. Its inventor was Max Himmelheber of Germany. The first commercial piece was produced during World War II at a factory in Bremen, Germany. It used waste material such as planer shavings, offcuts or sawdust, hammer-milled into chips, and bound together with a phenolic resin. Hammer-milling involves smashing material into smaller and smaller pieces until they pass out through a screen. Most other early particleboard manufacturers used similar processes, though often with slightly different resins.<br /><br />It was found that better strength, appearance and resin economy could be achieved by using more uniform, manufactured chips. Manufacturers began processing solid birch, beech, alder, pine and spruce into consistent chips and flakes. These finer layers were then placed on the outsides of the board, with the central section composed of coarser, cheaper chips. This type of board is known as three-layer particleboard.<br /><br />More recently, graded-density particleboard has also evolved. It contains particles that gradually become smaller as they get closer to the surface.<br /><br />Particleboard is manufactured by mixing wood particles or flakes together with a resin and forming the mix into a sheet. The raw material to be used for the particles is fed into a disc chipper with between four and sixteen radially arranged blades. The particles are first dried, after which any oversized or undersized particles are screened out.<br /><br />Resin, in liquid form, is then sprayed through nozzles onto the particles. There are several types of resins that are commonly used. Amino, formaldehyde based resins ( OMG! The people of the world are in deep shit) are the best performing when considering cost and ease of use. Urea Melamine resins are used to offer water resistance with increased melamine offering enhanced resistance. Phenol formaldehyde is typically used where the panel is used in external applications due to the increased water resistance offered by phenolic resins and also the colour of the resin resulting in a darker panel. Melamine Urea phenolic formaldehyde resins exist as a compromise. To enhance the panel properties even further the use of resorcinol resins typically mixed with phenolic resins are used, but this is usually used with plywood for marine applications and a rare occasion in panel production.<br /><br />Panel production involves various other chemicals — including wax, dyes, wetting agents, release agents — to make the final product water resistant, fireproof, insect proof, or to give it some other quality.<br /><br />Once the resin has been mixed with the particles, the liquid mixture is made into a sheet. A weighing device notes the weight of flakes, and they are distributed into position by rotating rakes. In graded-density particleboard, the flakes are spread by an air jet that throws finer particles further than coarse ones. Two such jets, reversed, allow the particles to build up from fine to coarse and back to fine.<br /><br />The sheets formed are then cold-compressed to reduce their thickness and make them easier to transport. Later, they are compressed again, under pressures between two and three megapascals and temperatures between 140 °C and 220 °C. This process sets and hardens the glue. All aspects of this entire process must be carefully controlled to ensure the correct size, density and consistency of the board.<br /><br />The boards are then cooled, trimmed and sanded. They can then be sold as raw board or surface improved through the addition of a wood veneer or laminate surface.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DGct_rBiN4Y/TjI31U2jsQI/AAAAAAAAEoA/NbVbs-9PiVI/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DGct_rBiN4Y/TjI31U2jsQI/AAAAAAAAEoA/NbVbs-9PiVI/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br />Particle board has had an enormous influence on furniture design. In the early 1950s, particle board kitchens started to come into use in furniture construction but, in many cases, it remained more expensive than solid wood. A particle board kitchen was only available to the very wealthy. Once the technology was more developed, particle board became cheaper.<br /><br />Large companies such as IKEA (Particleboard Central) and Fantastic Furniture base their strategies around providing well-designed furniture at a low price. In almost all cases, this means particle board or MDF or similar. IKEA’s stated mission is to “create well-designed home furniture at prices so low that as many people as possible will be able to afford it”. They do this by using the cheapest materials possible, as do most other major furniture providers. However, manufacturers, in order to maintain a reputation for quality at low cost, may use higher grades of particle board, e.g., higher density particle board, thicker particle board, or particle board using higher-quality resins. One may note the amount of sag in a shelf of a given width.<br /><br />In general, the much lower cost of sheet goods (particle board, medium density fiberboard, and other engineered wood products), has helped to displace solid wood from many cabinetry applications. As a result, solid wood furniture has become an expensive luxury and particle board or MDF or similar is the norm.<br /><br />Safety concerns are two part, one being fine dust released when particleboard is machined (e.g., sawing or routing. Get ready to change your blade cheap or expensive for every 35 feet you cut.Personal experience!), and occupational exposure limits exist in many countries recognizing the hazard of wood dusts. The other concern is with the release of formaldehyde. Help! In 1984 concerns about the initial indoor level of formaldehyde led the United States Department of Housing and Urban Development to set standards for construction of manufactured homes. This however was not solely because of the large amounts of pressed wood products that manufactured homes contain but also because of other building materials such as Urea-formaldehyde foam insulation. Formaldehyde is classified by the WHO as a known human carcinogen.<br /><br />Particleboard’s selling points compared to solid timber are its low cost, its availability in large flat sheets, and its ability to be decorated with melamine based overlays.<br /><br />Solid wood has structural advantages over particleboard. It is stronger, particularly in extension (as required for horizontal spans), allowing it to support greater weights as shelves or other furniture; unless braced or built with thick material, particleboard shelves may visibly sag over time or snap near the fasteners.<br /><br />Screw fasteners should be installed with caution, taking into account the specific mechanical properties of particleboard. Otherwise, a fastener may not provide the correct holding power in particleboard over time. There is a tendency for improperly installed screw threads to strip. For example, over-torquing a screw installed in particleboard would lead to premature failure of the fastener. The tolerance to over-torque during installation is less-forgiving for particleboard as compared to plywood or to solid wood. Portions of the particleboard may "blow out" when subjected to extension stress. In part, this arises from the lack of elasticity in particleboard resins as compared to the long strands and compressible voids contained in solid wood, a feature that, while preserved in the manufacture of plywood, is compromised in particleboard. Ikea had a good idea back in the 80's when they came out with the cam screw and lock.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tYWBpeE0HBo/TjIx4ulNi2I/AAAAAAAAEn4/W3XrFnsTmD8/s1600/Cam+screw+and+lock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tYWBpeE0HBo/TjIx4ulNi2I/AAAAAAAAEn4/W3XrFnsTmD8/s1600/Cam+screw+and+lock.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br />The strength of particleboard, in the context of the application and cost, can offer advantages over solid wood on a cost basis. In cabinet carcase construction, relatively thick particleboard is used (typically ¾"), particularly in the s<span style="font-size: small;">idewalls to suppor</span>t compressive loads of countertops and appliances, where its lower cost and adequate strength make it a frequent choice. <i><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12pt; letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">¾ inch plywood laid along the top of your cabinets are recommended for heavier counter tops&nbsp; such as granite and marble.</span></i> <br /><br />Solid wood is more durable than particleboard. Damage to solid wood can be repaired by removing and replacing damaged material then refinishing using known wood treatments that can be matched. Since particleboard is typically faced with by a non-wood veneer, it may be impossible to match the original finish. In addition, damage to particleboard is typified by structural failure and exposure of sizable jagged faults. Damage to particleboard is therefore normally very difficult to repair, usually requiring replacement of the damaged particleboard elements.<br /><br />The reduced durability of particleboard furniture is a consequence of reduced strength in extension. This drawback contributes to damage when furniture is moved; if possible, the furniture should be disassembled to eliminate the possibility of damage in transit.<br /><br />Most people consider solid wood furniture to be more attractive than particleboard. Recognizing this, furniture makers often cover particleboard with real or imitation veneers, in an effort to simulate the look of solid wood.<br /><br />Some particleboard today is manufactured of rubber wood, mainly from Thailand and some regions of Malaysia. Tropical-mix wood accounts for a smaller percentage of the total production of particleboard from the Asian Region.<br /><br />Tropical-mix wood's main differences with rubber-wood particleboard is its color, strength, moisture resistance and density.<br /><br />Tropical-mix wood particleboard, made from timber residues and wood waste, gives it a competitive edge over rubber-wood particleboard with its high bending strength. Tropical-mix wood furniture reduces wear and tear of a furniture, including common issues such as dented edges after minor collision, chipping of the sides, which rubber wood particleboard are prone to. Tropical-mix wood particleboard has strengths comparable to MDF, however at a fraction of the cost, therefore it is widely used in the market today, gaining higher popularity. Tropical-mix wood has a higher moisture resistance as compared to rubber-wood, however glue type also plays an important role in it. High moisture/humidity resistance will greatly reduce the chance of mold growing on the particleboard, and applicable in conditions where humidity level is slightly higher than usual (without direct exposure to any form of liquid.)<br /><br />Tropical-mix wood is usually heavier in weight due to its difference in raw material and density (more compact in density).<br /><br />Rubber wood has a bright look (yellowish) due to the color of rubber wood with black dots, tropical-mix wood has a consistent light brown finish.<br /><br />Both products are great for lamination purposes, furniture making, speaker boxes, and other industries but for the right price and furniture that lasts a life time invest in the real deal. Wood.<br /><br />R Brentnall<br />TorontoGambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-43546107262883419592011-07-13T04:09:00.000-04:002011-07-13T04:09:59.200-04:0010 Reasons to switch to Gmail...The best in Email<b>12 Reasons To Switch To Gmail</b><br /><br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTsqHMGQHSgFDYzxjLTnDmyuWGPwZwBENhGRbyXT0izs6n4I4Vb" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="211" width="239" src="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTsqHMGQHSgFDYzxjLTnDmyuWGPwZwBENhGRbyXT0izs6n4I4Vb" /></a></div><br />1. Gmail spam filters block 99% of the spam that usually makes it to your inbox. Although Outlook 2007 had a good spam filter, I still usually got around 2 or 3 emails a week sneaking into my inbox… not with Gmail.<br /> 2. With Gmail you get to keep your old email account, and all incoming emails will be forwarded to your new Gmail account . Also, emails that you send from your new account will have your old email account in the from area.<br /> 3. You can create Word docs, PDF’s and spread sheets with Gmail via the use of GoogleDocs.<br /> 4. Gmail allows you to schedule events with the Google Calendar that will notify you by email to remind you of an appointment or meeting. It can also send a reminder to the person or persons that you will be meeting with.<br /> 5. Gmail has something called ‘Stars’ and which allows you to tag emails you find important. You can actually do a search for ‘Starred‘ emails and they all pop up, and as quick as a normal google search!<br /> 6. Your emails are tabbed into a thread, which means you no longer have to look for old emails… it is more like a conversation window.<br /> 7. You can set up filters and labels to keep your Inbox organised and clutter free.<br /> 8. It has a fast, easy search function which means you will never lose an email again. The search is as fast a normal google search which is ace.<br /> <br /> 9. Update: Forgot to mention how much space there is with Gmail… you will never have to delete an email again.<br /> 10. Update: The ‘Canned Responses’ aka drafts feature is great. When you need to email something over and over, this function will save you a lot of time.Gambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-59567720930568732732011-07-12T21:37:00.000-04:002011-07-12T21:37:25.353-04:00Facebook is crap! ................with a capital C<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcR5V5tkX1dgZaAEInbTJvtaPyfUCb_ROAQU1qQe3H6HtbCsUGw6" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="193" width="262" src="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcR5V5tkX1dgZaAEInbTJvtaPyfUCb_ROAQU1qQe3H6HtbCsUGw6" /></a></div><br />Over the years we’ve all seen technological trends come and go (I’m older so I’ve seen more come and go than some others). I regard Facebook as one of these fads that will fade soon.<br /><br />As a reader/writer I have been interested in the study of random graphs that arise from social phenomena. Examples include the link graph of the web, the email graph connecting email addresses together, the sexual contact graph, the co-authorship graph, the coworker’s graph, etc. In trying to understand how these graphs evolve, I’ve noticed a lot of buzz surrounding websites that try to build explicitly upon this phenomonen, namely social network sites like LinkedIn and Orkut. In the past I even joined a couple of these to see what the hype was about. In each case, after screwing around with them for about ten minutes I’ve been thorougly underwhelmed with the technology and the privacy compromises that they involve. I predict that these will go the way of geocities (or at least they should).<br /><br />First of all, they offer a walled garden model, where only people who surrender their privacy are allowed to participate. In order for any of these sites to have any value to you, you have to put some energy into surrendering your information to the control of the closed network. If your friends choose to put their effort into the same network, then you can benefit from it. On the other hand, if your friends put their effort into another network (e.g., myspace or orkut or 360 or linkedin), then you end up having your friends walled off from each other. I have friends all over the world, and I don’t see any value in having them walled off from each other. If the web taught us anything, it is that walled gardens are inferior to gardens without walls.<br /><br />The privacy issue is a confusing one to many people. Some people are attracted to Facebook because they perceive that it offers some control for them over the information that they share with friends. What they overlook is that in order to gain this control, they have to surrender other forms of their privacy. In particular, in order to join the Google group at Facebook, I have to give my work email address to Facebook. In exchange for surrendering this information to a faceless corporation, I would get to exercise some control over the sharing of information that I put into facebook. Specifically you can limit your data to those who you declare to be in your list of friends. It even offers some fine-grain control over which of your friends can see certain pieces of information. Whoopdy doo.<br /><br />By contrast, when you create a web site like this one, you have no control over who can read it or what use can be made of it. That drives some control freaks and fearful people crazy. The advantage of giving away control is that you don’t limit your ability to communicate. As a social animal, I like to share information with my friends, but I’m not particularly interested in using a crude web tool to exercise limited control over who gets to see what. I adopt the notion that if you don’t want to say it in public, then you probably shouldn’t type it at all.<br /><br />In my opinion there is far too much paranoia in this world about privacy, and sites like facebook prey upon this paranoia in a cynical way to exploit the data of others. There is a lot of data about us as individuals that circulates in this world, and sometimes that data gets used against you in ways you may not like. I see sites like Facebook as a placebo against this trend.<br /><br />I can take or leave Facebook. Just don’t expect me to put any time into building my network – I like my gardens without walls.Gambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-69809938045609246682011-05-05T22:55:00.000-04:002011-05-05T22:55:23.150-04:00Rogers: Friendly Neighbourhood Cable Company or Diabolical Crooks?<h2 class="post-title"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></h2><div class="info"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XSo552mRvns/TcNikJENL-I/AAAAAAAAEco/xu56CElWgzE/s1600/Clipbod-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XSo552mRvns/TcNikJENL-I/AAAAAAAAEco/xu56CElWgzE/s320/Clipbod-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>My first experience with Rogers should have sent me running for the hills…or at least to the cancellation desk in an attempt to void the deal I just made with the devil. Unfortunately for us mere mortals, the gods sitting atop Mount Rogers know exactly how crooked they really are and gleefully revel in it. Their army of shady lawyers carefully hide clauses in the microscopic print on the bottom of all their contracts to figuratively hog tie and gag their customers so you are powerless to stop them from gouging every red cent they can out of you by means of hidden fees, extortionate pricing and so-called “bundled savings”. They also ensure as many people as possible sign up for the more expensive services by making the cheaper options so absurdly inadequate that customers are left with little choice.<br />They buy up blocks of time from television stations who, in exchange, air flashy commercials that highlight how Rogers is the master of the universe while blatantly demeaning the competition. After all, Rogers has the fastest, most reliable wireless network, cheapest home phone packages and unbeatable digital cable options in the country, right? Why not sign your life away and enjoy the benefits?<br />So you spend hours reviewing your options on their snazzy, highly efficient website and carefully build a Better Choice Bundle consisting of home phone, internet and cable. <i>This saves me 10%</i>, you think happily as you click away. <i>Better than nothing! </i><br />You do some quick math. If a basic home phone costs $27.95 per month, basic cable is $29.99 and internet is $27.99, add tax and the 10% bundle discount and your bill should hover somewhere around the $88.93 ballpark, give or take a few bucks for system fees, etc. Not bad for three amazing Rogers services. You’re now anxious to speak to a helpful customer service representative to get the ball rolling so you can take full advantage of this great deal. And said customer service representative is only too happy to oblige you.<br />What they don’t tell you is getting your hands on one of these “great deals” is damn near impossible because they don’t exist. Your $28 telephone is great – if everyone you know and are likely to ever talk to for the rest of your life lives within a thirty-block radius of your house. If not, you have to add a long-distance package which will cost you another $19.95 each month or upgrade to a more expensive option.<br />That awesome $30 cable is great too – if you only watch CBC News and the fireplace channel in four different time zones. More than a quarter of the thirty or so channels you pay for are time shifted stations broadcasting the same programs you watched an hour before. It also does not include many of the more popular television stations. If you want more visual stimulation, you have to choose a more expensive package – Digital Plus at $47 or VIP at $57.49 are your only sensible options. If you want the Godfather of all cable packages, VIP Ultimate is available. It includes VIP channels plus movie packages, specialty channels and theme packs but at an extortionate price of $99.46 a month, who the hell can afford it? You also have the option to add specific channels to your package but that option is unavailable with your basic $30 cable so you’re shit out of luck.<br />The $28 internet is an amazing deal as well if the only thing you ever do is open and close Internet Explorer all day. At the absurdly slow download speed of 500 Kbps, you could deliver that letter to your pen-pal in Germany quicker by walking there than trying to e-mail it using this dinosaur. In fact, you could probably walk there and back before the hotmail page even loads. If you don’t like the idea of decaying at your desk with dead lice falling off you while you wait for a web page to appear, you are forced to upgrade again to a more expensive package. These range anywhere from $35.99 for something slightly quicker than cold molasses to $99.99 for internet so fast, that your e-mail to your pen pal in Germany is rocketed to her Inbox three days before you even thought about writing it.<br />So after you’ve tweaked your Better Choice Bundle to include services that are a little more acceptable to your busy lifestyle, you now have Express internet at $46.99, VIP cable at $57.49, basic home phone with no calling features for $27.95 and the long-distance package for $19.95. Add tax and 10% bundle discount and your bill should now be hovering around in the $157.71 ballpark….more than $60 more than you originally thought. Suddenly these “great deals” you see advertised on television don’t seem go great after all.<br />But your bank account doesn’t stop hemorrhaging there. You must also take into account the one-time installation charges, pro-rated billing, modem rental, terminal fees and one-month advance billing. Once these have been tacked on, the initial hundred-dollar bundle that you were so excited about is now costing you three times more than you were willing to pay in the first place and you suddenly feel like you’ve been raped with a machete. Not to mention that you are now stuck in an iron-clad 12-month contract that had been forged in the fires of Mount Doom and feels like a lead ball and chain around your ankle.<br />&nbsp;I was one of those customers but little did I know that the trouble hadn’t even begun yet.Gambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-28947595565468903712011-03-09T08:56:00.000-05:002011-03-09T08:56:14.572-05:00The Joys of Burglary<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-HgzwEWr-V4c/TXeGlvrfayI/AAAAAAAADaA/PHaSCyBAdjE/s1600/FWB2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="57" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-HgzwEWr-V4c/TXeGlvrfayI/AAAAAAAADaA/PHaSCyBAdjE/s320/FWB2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana,arial,helvetica;">&nbsp;The cops arrived about two hours after I phoned. In the meantime, I really had to use the bathroom because I'd been on the plane and subway all day, but the burglars had urinated in my toilet, and I wondered if I'd be destroying evidence. Could they get DNA from pee? I didn't know.<br /><img height="14" hspace="5" src="http://www.chiprowe.com/images/blank.gif" width="14" />Sound irrational? Maybe. But I was sitting in an empty house and I had to pee really bad; that can make you crazy. I decided to hold out, and sat down with my legs crossed to piece together the holiday mail. The burglars had ripped all the cards in half searching for cash.<br /><img height="14" hspace="5" src="http://www.chiprowe.com/images/blank.gif" width="14" />The cops showed up long after I'd given up and relieved myself. They were both rookies. One was a round, short woman so overweight she could hardly walk (which irritated me, I mean how can you respect any cop you can out walk?), and the other was a guy who spelled "also" as "all so" on the report. When the fingerprint detective arrived, the first thing he asked was, "Are you sure your roommate didn't do this?" He was suspicious because the burglars had taken everything, including the coffee table and rugs. Crackheads don't bother with home furnishings. So we got hit by pros. The cops said that pros wait for you to replace everything with your insurance money and then they come back after a few months. That didn't happen, but I watched for them for months.<br /><img height="14" hspace="5" src="http://www.chiprowe.com/images/blank.gif" width="14" />Besides our stereos, computers, leather, compact discs, telephones, cash, televisions, VCRs and porch furniture, the burglars stole my nail file set, a nice one that I received as a present. I hope they like it. They loaded their bounty into my a 1986 Chevrolet Astro minivan according to neighbours and stole that too probably. <br /><img height="14" hspace="5" src="http://www.chiprowe.com/images/blank.gif" width="14" />The fingerprint guy was the most interesting of the cops (Laurel and Hardy) who showed up:&nbsp; a detective who questioned neighbors and the fingerprint guy. He poked around, covering everything with a metallic dust that stripped paint off metal. He also was the last one to leave.<br /><img height="14" hspace="5" src="http://www.chiprowe.com/images/blank.gif" width="14" />"How long you been a fingerprint guy?"<br /><img height="14" hspace="5" src="http://www.chiprowe.com/images/blank.gif" width="14" />"Twelve years."<br /><img height="14" hspace="5" src="http://www.chiprowe.com/images/blank.gif" width="14" />"Any common elements among all the burglaries?"<br /><img height="14" hspace="5" src="http://www.chiprowe.com/images/blank.gif" width="14" />"Crack addicts. Kids. Not very smart. Don't wear gloves, so we catch 'em. Always eat something."<br /><img height="14" hspace="5" src="http://www.chiprowe.com/images/blank.gif" width="14" />I noticed a carton of orange juice and a cup of blueberry yogurt on the kitchen floor. I pointed them out. The fingerprint guy picked up the yogurt.<br /><img height="14" hspace="5" src="http://www.chiprowe.com/images/blank.gif" width="14" />"Plastic doesn't work that well," he told me. He tried anyway. He dusted my yogurt.<br /><img height="14" hspace="5" src="http://www.chiprowe.com/images/blank.gif" width="14" />"If burglars always eat something," I asked, "could we leave behind some poisoned beer?"<br /><img height="14" hspace="5" src="http://www.chiprowe.com/images/blank.gif" width="14" />He didn't answer, and I thought he was concentrating on the yogurt. Then he turned in the chair and fixed me with a cold stare. "Ever hear of manslaughter?" he said.<br /><img height="14" hspace="5" src="http://www.chiprowe.com/images/blank.gif" width="14" />I didn't ask about the legality of a shotgun booby trap.<br /><img height="14" hspace="5" src="http://www.chiprowe.com/images/blank.gif" width="14" />After the fingerprint guy had gone, I fixed the door as best I could and tried to sleep. I had the heeby-jeebies for months, even after my housemate installed an alarm system. Every sound became the echo of steps, every creak was a crowbar. The radiators popped without warning, that breaking-of-glass sound when you're not expecting it. You only needed to believe it for a moment and your heart jumped and you have to talk yourself out of it and try to sleep.<br /><img height="14" hspace="5" src="http://www.chiprowe.com/images/blank.gif" width="14" />As the weeks passed, I became angrier that I suffered this anguish, tiptoeing around the house, not playing the radio because of my (irrational, certainly) fear that I wouldn't hear the crooks returning to tie me to a chair and say, "What should we do with him?" It's a strange leap, it was just a burglary and happens all the time and I was insured and it's certainly not as traumatic as being shot or raped or beaten. But when you've been violated in whatever way and you read about some guy on death row who killed two teenagers in cold blood and now wants a stay of his execution and has Mother Teresa asking people to pray for him, you think why not a fucking prayer for me?</span>Gambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-89355212049732317842011-03-06T22:01:00.000-05:002011-03-06T22:01:27.374-05:007 Methods to Traffic<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aL8WBelEi04/TXRI1AlVZ8I/AAAAAAAADZc/phnEwlH5YJo/s1600/Notes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="96" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aL8WBelEi04/TXRI1AlVZ8I/AAAAAAAADZc/phnEwlH5YJo/s320/Notes.jpg" width="96" /></a></div><br />Getting repeated traffic is very crucial when it comes to an online business, whether it’s a monetized blog, an e-commerce site or anything that generates income for you. At some point, generating initial traffic can become an easier task compared to maintaining the tempo of the traffic and keeping them going back to your site the next time.<br /><br />To help you, here are 7 methods to help bring repeat traffic:<br /><br />be constant on your post and try to follow a schedule. This usually alarms visitors that liked your recent articles about the time for the post. Not only does this help your blog grow, it also shows how diligent you are in updating the blog.<br /><br />Make things simple for your visitors by adding a link to your primary page with a “Book Mark” or “Add this site to your Favorites” script.<br /><br />To attract customers and make them repeated ones, use the “Recommend this post or blog to a Friend” function to make that easier. Remember, this link does not only function to send mail to the new users but most of the times have option to send a copy to the send himself. But in doing so make sure to have your blog updated as well, a list would be very useful for organization purposes.<br /><br />By properly branding your site or blog, you can easily make people remember your site with less effort. Each time a reader thinks about your blog, all they simply need to do is to remember a photo, a figure, logo or simply a color. This will create a presence and feel for your customers and visitors that they are at your site.<br /><br />The sending of unsolicited emails to your mail subscribers if the list is maintained separately. This should be the least expected thing for your readers to think of. It’s advisable that you give them options to opt out from mailing list for every mail you send to each of them. Always make an assurance that you honor their request/s and take them off your mailing list/s. constan<br /><br />flooding of your reader’s mails will only result to the damage of your site and reputation, avoid this as much as possible.<br /><br />Try to optimize your blog post pages to the fullest, so that search engines in such a way that the subject or topic of your blog post/s, if searched on your blog should be appearing in the first two pages of search engine/s. always remember the contents quality and the keywords that match right into it, since these play a huge role in contributing to your site’s success.<br /><br />Always observe proper logic, spelling and grammar when it comes to your content. The more your content is clear and understandable, the more it your readers would enjoy your content, as much as possible make it brief and straight to the point but also useful to the readers. Try to use spell check tools just make sure that your post is completely spelling mistake free.Gambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-76911522358666503462011-01-06T04:06:00.009-05:002011-09-04T10:50:01.311-04:00Being an actor does not merit the ability to direct<a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_RUEEFpaggLU/TSWGDdYvybI/AAAAAAAAC-w/K6LbUHjZX5M/s1600-h/clip_image002%5B4%5D.jpg"><img align="left" alt="clip_image002" border="0" height="121" hspace="12" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_RUEEFpaggLU/TSWGD-EgBgI/AAAAAAAAC-0/UjyHigKuTlE/clip_image002_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-width: 0px; display: inline; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px;" title="clip_image002" width="224" /></a>After watching "<a href="http://www.tribute.ca/trailers/young-triffie/3113/">Young Triffie</a>" for the first time on CBC's latenight yesterday I can safely say that I did not miss a hellova lot when the film debuted in Halifax back in 2005.From her crusading stint on CBC's This Hour Has 22 Minutes as Marg, Princess Warrior, to the way she put a certain highly-placed Nova Scotia MP in his place for mistaking Halifax for Hogtown, it seems there's nothing that Mary Walsh can't do -- and do brilliantly. Then again, having endured Young Triffie, the movie that marks Walsh's feature-film directorial debut, maybe we should make that "almost nothing she can't do." Turns out, when it comes to directing movies, Martin Scorsese and John Ford need not lose much sleep over competition from Walsh. As a movie, Young Triffie no doubt made a damn fine play, which is precisely how it started out. <br />Written by Ray Guy under the title "Young Triffie's Been Made Away With," it seems to have enjoyed quite a success among discerning theatre goers on The Rock during its stage incarnation. As a film though it could have read "Young Triffie has been made away with by Mary Walsh." and nobody with a sense of the theatre would have even noticed. Mr. Guy may never sleep the same after seeing one of his great masterpieces being thrown to the dogs.<br />But then that's where Young Triffie, both play and subsequent movie, is set, specifically in Swyers Harbour -- a small, fictional Newfoundland outport, circa 1947. <br />It is to Swyers Harbour that an inept Newfoundland Ranger (Corner Gas' Fred Ewanuick) is sent packing to investigate what appears to be the ritual sacrifice of a sheep. <br />This being 1947 Newfoundland, and the Ranger being particularly inept, he arrives in town blissfully unaware that circumstances have outstripped him. He will now be investigating the murder of young Triffie herself, she being the unfortunate and simple young daughter of a local crackpot evangelist (wonderfully played by Andy Jones). <br />Adapted from the stage play by Christian Murray, Young Tiffie boasts a plot that embraces not only murder but pedophilia, incest, drug addiction, religious zealotry and a host of other societal ills. All serve as comic fodder for a cast that also includes Remy Girard (as the local doctor) and Andrea Martin (forever miscast; as his meddling wife), Colin Mochrie (as Ewaniuck's commanding officer), Cathy Jones (as a local busy-body) and Walsh herself, cast as post mistress and purveyor of red herring, which in this case is a darn sight more prevalent than cod. <br />In short, it's the kind of comedy that a more experienced director might mind from a cast of dramatic actors, as opposed to a clutch of comedians. <br />With the comics in control there is no bit of comic business too picayune, no characterization too over-the-top, to allow it to go to waste, even at the expense of paltry considerations such as dramatic arc and storyline. <br />So instead of a cracking good yarn with comedic overtones, viewers are subjected to Ewaniuk's best impersonation of Mr. Bean does Buena Vista (the portugese name for Bonavista Bay aka "Oh Happy Site") , while Martin does her best to keep up with the tightly wound Joneses. Of all the roles I have seen Andy Jones perform in this is by far I think his gem. He did not just play the part he was the part. Then again that being said Ronald Reagan played the lead in "King Rat" and we all know that cutting a man's leg off well it does give one a wonderful prop. In the end, almost everybody -- except perhaps Newfoundland itself -- comes off looking totally daft.<br />And to think that it previewed with the words…"See some of Newfoundlands finest actors strut their stuff." Scarey! Bloody Scarey!<br />God forbid that Mr. Guy would allow anyone from this friendly circus to touch "That Far Greater Bay." <br /><br /><br /><br /><center> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size: 25px;">"Paws off! Paws off! The lot a ye" </span></span></center> <br /><br />As a film director, Walsh still needs to learn what she apparently already knows as an actor: Concentrate on telling the story, and trust your audience to find the humour. Talk about <i>Filme Horribilis.</i><br /><br />"She's not the same since the Doctor put her on the new pills............nor will she ever be"<br />R. Brentnall<br />TorontoGambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-63589352568729881082011-01-03T18:05:00.013-05:002013-12-21T18:57:59.596-05:00A Christmas in Brampton<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z7INbOaNqjo/TuCBsXepnKI/AAAAAAAAE4Y/xABGMz-tDok/s1600/Christmas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="153" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z7INbOaNqjo/TuCBsXepnKI/AAAAAAAAE4Y/xABGMz-tDok/s200/Christmas.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />Gloria is Gloria Paul duke of Gambo who now resides in Brampton Ontario. A couple of weeks ago we talked about the possibility of me going for a visit for a couple of days during the Christmas season. This was my first Christmas in many years that I decided not to go to Fort McMurray or Newfoundland Boston New York or Montreal. The fact that I have therapy 3 days a week for a dislocated shoulder made it impossible to travel outside my native Toronto for a long period of time. Taking the Go Bus would be a lot wiser than having to travel the #401 this time of year not to mention the bad driving habits of this multicultural society.<br /><br />Got there around 2pm on Christmas Eve and after trying to track Gloria down for half an hour we ran into each other via cell phone. Not hard to spot her though as all the Paul sisters are similar in Look. Of them all I probably knew Pamela best as we had been students at the old United School Junior High as well as the well known Smallwood Academy. I've known that family since I was a wee lad growing up in Gambo in the 60's and 70's. Henry and Marie Paul had from who I remember Ella(Granter) Mary (Collins) Rhoda(Lane) Idella(Lane) Nina(?) Gloria(Duke) and 2 &nbsp;brothers John and Henry(Jr.) who was tragically killed by a drunk driver back in 1978. I remember being in Montreal at the time and having been told by brother Norman about the incident. The feeling well you can imagine it was like someone from our own circle having his life shortened by what I would define as a bleeding idiot. I will not mention the culprit but you know who you are and like most writers I don't wish to be sued for slander.<br /><br />Brampton had so much snow! Wow! Now this is Christmas the way it should be celebrated. Samantha and Jarrett were in the back seat of the car and good as gold for about 5 minutes and then the questions started and here I was thinking they were Gloria's little angels. Actually they are. Good as gold both of them. <br /><br />We popped into the Beer store that had very few people; unusual for Christmas Eve but then again this was Brampton and not Toronto. Pulling into Wall mart an hour later was another story. One felt like saying "Get out for the love of god..... you've spent enough!" <br />I remember suggesting to Gloria to just grab me a few gift certificates for the kids. At least with those they could still buy what they wanted and also think that Santa Claus brought them. As long as we had to line up to pay I may as well grab a couple toberone chocolate bars for their stockings too. Gotta love kids! After all they are what Christmas is all about."Alright", I said "Lets head home my dear and off we went.<br /><br />There are many things that one might see when a door to a garage is opened but this one might give anybody the woolies. Have a guess? Give up? A prop left over from Hallowe'en in the rear of the garage. It was a coffin made from tin that you can place on your lawn along with other things for crazy halloweeners. It's just that it looked so darned real! Wicked...<br /><br />That night we spent most of the time talking of old times in Gambo and how different it was then as opposed to now.When Gloria put the kids to bed for the night we started on our wine and grub and spent a fine evening shooting the poop about nothing that can be changed anyway. Wonder why it is that the Newfoundlanders favourite pastime is spent conversing of things that happened 25-30 years ago. Probably because the culture that we come from has done it for 500 years and so it's what we do.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v76-7nBngIE/TXMSoqNPSmI/AAAAAAAADXY/18vyYfzlY8k/s1600/Jerrod.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v76-7nBngIE/TXMSoqNPSmI/AAAAAAAADXY/18vyYfzlY8k/s200/Jerrod.jpg" width="188" /></a></div><br />When Jarrett went to bed he went to sleep but not our Little Miss Muffett...oh no...If she came down once she cane down 10 times. Why? because she had to make sure that Santa had enough to eat when he arrived down the chimney on Christmas Morning.There it was on her last visit……..a huge 1 foot carrot on the plate. I laughed til I cried. That was it! Gloria's patience was being tried.<br />"Now my Lady...." well say no more she was gone and Santa would just have to settle for a five course dinner. HA Ha HA!<br /><br /><br />Went to bed I think it must have been around 2 but for anyone who has slept on a couch and was not comfortable this one was no exception. It probably was comfortable but when you are so used to your own bed the Queens parlour would not have replaced it. I went to bed blinked and got up so it seemed. Woke up to the sound of little children scrunching wrapping paper ribbons and christmas tape to all the gifts that Santa can muster. You can say what you want but there is nothing in this world so beautiful and exciting as watching the little ones open their Christmas gifts. I remember saying to Gloria "Poor little things...they're so deprived. We got a chuckle out of that one. Jarett got a guitar that was similar to the amplifier in days of old and Samantha got new pink skates among the more than 20 other gifts from Mommy and Daddy and all the others in their family.<br /><br /><br />Christmas always brings me back to a day in 1963 when all I talked about was a plastic Dump truck in Uncle Peter Paul’s window to anyone who would listen. I even wrote a letter to Santa Claus himself because before I was 10 he really did exist. The story or the myth always seemed so real. My Santa Claus that one particular year came in the form of my beautiful Aunt who was also as I later learned much later to be exact my Godmother as my own mother on the day of my christening had been ill. Aunt Joan who is also an Aunt to Gloria came over to visit and under her arm was something in a brown paper bag and with what I knew was something for somebody because she sat to the kitchen table with Mother sipping Tea and eating raisin buns and the bag just sat there unopened. Now if it was something for Mother or Dad it would have been opened by now. What was in that bag? I had to know. It couldn’t have been baked bread because there were too many wrinkles. Not cookies it was too high. Okay that’s it…I’m asking and so now here is the surprise.<br /><br /><br />“Aunt Joan…..what’s in the bag?”Nothing like being inquisitive when you’re 7 and not even blinking. “Well, I don’t know my baby.That all depends on whether you’ve been a good little boy or whether or not you’ve been a bad little boy.” Well whatever it was I may have been only 7 but smart enough to know that whatever it was it must have been meant for me because Aunt Joan would not have asked that question if she had not gotten that for me. Could it be? I wonder? Is it? Is it possible that Santa and Aunt Joan were one and the same. On that she picked me up on her knee and said<br />“Don’t touch Roddy, let Aunt Joan unwrap it. ” Out came the little toy truck and the most awestruck child of 7 that if you were in attendance in that small Irish kitchen you never saw or maybe never will see the likes since. There was a god; there was a Santa; and there are miracles. It was a Green truck with a white dumpster as well as a small green shovel to complete the set. You can imagine the smile and joy on a childs face and in his heart at that moment. Yippee! It was by far in my memory the very best of Christmases ever. To this day I cannot even fathom visiting a friend with children and not bringing them something for their big day. A little kindness goes so far.<br /><br /><br />10 years later on a sunny June morning in 1973 I watched my Mother cry her eyes out glaring through a picture window as the body of my beloved Aunt was driven down the old road of Gambo. By then Santa Claus was dead but as great notions go I became Santa myself to any child within my reach at this most emotional and giving time of year. Aunt Joan is still with me in my heart as is Uncle Watson whenever I feel the need for guidance joy and direction. They are always with me.<br /><br />Sharing Christmas with friends and family is the very best to those of us who experience it. They are not now what they were when I was a boy but then again nothing is. Thanx to all who made this Christmas a joyous one for me and oh so many others and may the New Year bring you hope understanding prosperity and a love of yourself and all those around you.<br /><br />“Gloria….Turn off the kettle fore she burns”<br /><br /><br />Roderick Brentnall is a freelance writer and lives in Toronto.Gambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-77338051008005100192010-12-11T06:37:00.004-05:002013-12-11T23:47:27.794-05:00A 1952 Newfoundland Christmasby Goldie Luckey Simmonds <br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <br />My name is Goldie Maxine, I’m nine years old and I just LOVE Christmas.&nbsp;&nbsp; My&nbsp; brother and I have a contest going to see who can cut the most Santa’s from the Evening Telegram.&nbsp; Yesterday I was extra fast and got them all cut out&nbsp; before Dad was even finished with the paper……I can’t remember exactly what he said but his face was some red!&nbsp; I won’t be doing that again. <br /><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_RUEEFpaggLU/TQNib-8sdcI/AAAAAAAAC8A/Hh_qzT4MYRU/s1600-h/image001%5B5%5D.jpg"><img alt="image001" border="0" height="224" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_RUEEFpaggLU/TQNic8qo4uI/AAAAAAAAC8E/b4HFAo-pWPQ/image001_thumb%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 0px 0px 100px;" title="image001" width="224" /></a> <br /><br />I can’t wait for Santa to come and fill my stocking.I hear that on the mainland they use store bought red felt stockings.They sound nice, but we’ve always used Mom’s nylons. I’m afraid Santa will think I’m somebody else and I’ll get scotch mints by mistake………I hate scotch mints! I have been warned though, that if I don’t watch my mouth all I’ll be getting in my stocking is a lump of coal.&nbsp; I have been on my best behavior for two whole weeks now so I’m pretty sure I’ll get my usual big orange, big red apple and Purity Peanut Butter candy.&nbsp; If I’m real lucky I’ll also get some Christmas ribbon candy, mom says they rot your teeth but Santa knows that they’re my favorite.<br />Mom has already baked her Christmas cakes including my favorite, walnut cake, and won’t even let me have a peck of it until Christmas.&nbsp; Nan has made her blueberry wine, for medicinal purposes only she says (whatever that means).&nbsp; All I know is that mom gets weak in the knees after a few sips.&nbsp; Nan won’t let us have any though, only Purity syrup and cake for my brother and I. THEN I have to sit at the kitchen table, eat my cake like a good girl and not go wandering around. <br /><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_RUEEFpaggLU/TQNidDSjMwI/AAAAAAAAC8I/EnQbFcfmJ8E/s1600-h/image003%5B2%5D.jpg"><img alt="image003" border="0" height="55" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_RUEEFpaggLU/TQNidU5Lj7I/AAAAAAAAC8M/KlSQgwbGsWs/image003_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 0px 0px 90px;" title="image003" width="224" /></a> <br />Just before Christmas, Mr. Snow delivers our Christmas tree on his horse &amp; sled.&nbsp; He lives way in past Mundy Pond and delivers coal for Morey’s on the Southside.&nbsp; My dad is the weigh-master at Morey’s.&nbsp; One time when we were really little, my brother and I walked all the way over to the Southside to visit him.&nbsp; After my Dad got over the surprise of seeing us so far from home, he weighed me on his big scale.&nbsp; Even though he knew I was a big girl and could find my way back home, we got a ride home in a coal truck.<br />Our Christmas tree is always the best one on Lime Street…..…..it’s decorated by Santa you know, we don’t see it until Christmas morning.&nbsp; Of course it will be smothered with all the toys from Eaton’s Catalogue.&nbsp; I made sure our Santa lists included both the page and catalogue numbers, just to make it easier for Santa.&nbsp; We don’t need to worry about our letters getting lost in the mail though, we gave them to Mom and she sent them up the chimney.<br />We been haunting Bowring’s Christmas window and I can’t stop thinking about the Barbara Ann Scott doll that’s right in the middle of it. She’s all dressed in red and white and has real blades on her skates.&nbsp; I’ve GOT to have her!&nbsp;&nbsp; My brother is dreaming about the big Lionel train set that goes in and out all the toys in the window.&nbsp; I’ve been giving this a lot of thought, but unless Mom lets us use the kitchen too I don’t know how he’s going to have room for it. <br />I can’t wait for the turkey with savory dressing.&nbsp; I hear that on the mainland they make dressing out of sage, can you believe that?&nbsp; Dressing wouldn’t be the same without Mt. Scio Farm’s savory.&nbsp; My Mom always makes peas pudding in with the vegetables and of course there’s always salt beef for flavoring.&nbsp; It’s some good!&nbsp;&nbsp; This year we have red, green and gold Christmas crackers to snap at dinner, they came in the box from our aunt in Montreal.&nbsp; I wonder what will be inside of my cracker?&nbsp; Probably a crepe paper hat as usual.<br />On Christmas Eve Mom lets my little brother &amp; I sleep in my bed, not that we plan on doing much sleeping.&nbsp; This year I am going to stay awake and catch Santa eating the syrup and cake we’ve left for him.&nbsp; Some of my friends don’t believe in Santa they say their Dad buys the gifts.&nbsp; I know MY Dad isn’t Santa…. he’s always too busy painting the kitchen on Christmas Eve to deliver presents to the children all over the world.&nbsp; My sister says it’s a wonder we don’t all choke in our beds from the paint fumes<br /><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_RUEEFpaggLU/TQNidswecwI/AAAAAAAAC8Q/eX505K9m_WI/s1600-h/image004%5B2%5D.jpg"><img alt="image004" border="0" height="59" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_RUEEFpaggLU/TQNieDbJfGI/AAAAAAAAC8U/amthLyxVPpk/image004_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 0px 0px 65px;" title="image004" width="224" /></a> <br />On Christmas night we go for a walk around town with Dad to see all the Christmas lights.&nbsp; We don’t have a car, but that’s ok, I love walking with my Dad.&nbsp; I like the sound of the snow crunching under my feet and listening to the Christmas carols played by the bells of Wesley Church. <br />On Boxing Day, we exchange gifts with our friends and relatives.&nbsp; Our favorite part is when Uncle Doug comes for a visit, he’s not married and lives by himself up on the Brow.&nbsp;&nbsp; He always makes everybody laugh and even though my mom says it’s because he’s always three sheets to the wind, we love him. He has plenty of candy in his pocket for the kids and always manages to slip some money into our hands when nobody is looking.<br />Adults go ‘mummering’ at Christmas, which means they dress up in costumes, knock on doors and if they’re lucky get asked in for drinks and a bit of a celebration.&nbsp; We don’t go ‘mummering’, but my friends and I knock on neighbor’s doors and say “Can I see your Christmas tree?”&nbsp;&nbsp; After oohing and aaahing over the tree, no matter what state it’s in, we’ll probably get offered some syrup and cake or maybe some candy.&nbsp; I’ve had some bad stomach aches after a day of looking at Christmas trees.<br />The saddest part of Christmas is Old Christmas Day when the tree MUST come down; it’s bad luck to leave it up after that date you know.&nbsp; Mom takes the decorations off the tree and puts them away in a special place… a place&nbsp; known only to her and Santa.<br /><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_RUEEFpaggLU/TQNieaKqcSI/AAAAAAAAC8Y/aVUO5dLebVI/s1600-h/image005%5B2%5D.gif"><img alt="image005" border="0" height="102" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_RUEEFpaggLU/TQNiejgho6I/AAAAAAAAC8c/ArVDnYhss-E/image005_thumb.gif?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; display: inline;" title="image005" width="176" /></a> <br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; -Goldie Luckey 2010<br /><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_RUEEFpaggLU/TQNie-ytMGI/AAAAAAAAC8g/HQ0MxMJOBNg/s1600-h/image004%5B5%5D.jpg"><img alt="image004" border="0" height="59" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_RUEEFpaggLU/TQNifezER_I/AAAAAAAAC8k/DyYx5PlfxVs/image004_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 0px 0px 100px;" title="image004" width="224" /></a>Gambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-9200402147758154922010-10-17T00:57:00.005-04:002016-08-13T01:18:16.381-04:00A Message by George Carlin<a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/_RUEEFpaggLU/TWSS93K1bbI/AAAAAAAADR0/5YZJRi-Tbpc/s128/clip_image0024.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/_RUEEFpaggLU/TWSS93K1bbI/AAAAAAAADR0/5YZJRi-Tbpc/s128/clip_image0024.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 128px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 128px;" /></a><br />The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways , but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness. We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom. We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often. We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbour. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things. We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less. These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills th at do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete... Remember; spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever. Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side. Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent. Remember, to say, 'I love you' to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you. Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again. Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind. <br />AND ALWAYS REMEMBER: <br />"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away." <br />George Carlin<br /><br />Submitted by<br />Roderick Brentnall is a Freelance Writer from Newfoundland. Gambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263747734256834407.post-17814036294639102992010-09-04T03:42:00.000-04:002010-09-04T03:43:21.319-04:00Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah<object style="height: 344px; width: 425px"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LcxYwwIL5zQ?version=3"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LcxYwwIL5zQ?version=3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="425" height="344"></object>Gambolianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03506017615979756089noreply@blogger.com0